


Footballers Don't Dance

by Tari_Sue



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Strictly Come Dancing Fusion, Competition, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-07-23 05:32:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 47
Words: 65,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16152626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tari_Sue/pseuds/Tari_Sue
Summary: What else is a footballer supposed to do at the end of his career other than enter Strictly?





	1. Week One, Salsa

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I went there, sorry

If you had told him a year ago that he would ever be here, in a bright pink sequined satin shirt, about to make a complete tit of himself on national television, he’d have laughed in your face.

A year ago was just before his knee injury. Even then, he’d been so sure he’d be back playing within six months. But he’s 34, which in football terms is getting on a bit, especially with this dodgy knee which took longer to heal than it should.

The dazzle of the lights is half blinding him, and this ridiculous outfit is too hot. The preposterous shirt has been sewn into his too-tight trousers, and he’s been afraid to drink all afternoon because going to the loo is easier said than done, so now he’s dehydrated and has a headache. 

The female host is talking to the camera, he really should try to remember her name. He knows who Gaius James, the male presenter, is, everyone does; Gaius has been on telly since before Arthur’s dad was born. The girl on the other hand, he can’t remember. He really should be able to remember.

His face hurts from all the fake smiling, his lips are stuck to his teeth because his mouth is so dry. This is a mistake, he can’t go through with it. The whole country will see him make a fool of himself, he’ll never live it down.

And talking of fake – they forced him into a tanning booth yesterday, so now his face is bright orange to clash even more with his shirt, and he smells of biscuits.

Suddenly, everyone else is walking off the dance floor, so he follows them.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He hasn’t got a clue, he’s going to make the biggest prat of himself that has ever been made. He’ll never be able to go out in public again – even worse, he’ll have to take a job for some team in a country like the US where they don’t even follow proper football, and then he’ll have to spend his whole life telling people it is not called soccer, and only wimps play football in armour, and and and… oh fuck why is he doing this? Is it too late to back out?

Yes. Yes, it is too late, because his dance partner is dragging him off to be poked and prodded again by the make-up and costume people and it’s too late. What would be more embarrassing, going out there and being a terrible dancer, or hyperventilating right here and now and passing out? 

With a bit of luck, he’ll be sent home in the first week. 

“And now, performing the Salsa, Arthur Pendragon and his partner, Sofia Shevchenko!”

The _Match of the Day_ theme tune starts.

This is it, definitely no backing out now.


	2. Week 2 – Run through

Sofia is yelling at him in Russian.

Eventually, she stops for breath and he takes the moment to interject.

“Ok, I’m quite sure everything you were saying there is quite correct, I am indeed a terrible dancer. However, I’m afraid I simply do not speak a single word of Russian and I haven’t a clue what you just said.” He gives her his most charming smile.

The look she shoots him really should have left him as a pile of ash on the floor of the dance studio. 

“I am _not_ Russian,” she says very slowly and clearly in English. “I am from Ukraine!” She turns on her heel and flounces out of the studio, slamming the door behind her.

Right. Arthur will just teach himself the foxtrot then, will he? Arthur will just tell himself where he went wrong last night and how they ended up at the bottom of the leaderboard?

Well, actually, he probably could tell himself that. He went completely blank, forgot everything he’d spent the last month learning about how to do the Cha Cha Cha, and ended up being practically pushed around the floor by Sofia. So maybe she really does have the right to be a tad upset.

However, he doesn’t have a month to learn the foxtrot, he has a week. Less than a week.

According to his agent, this was a great career move. He was apparently ‘past his prime’ in the football world (yeah, thanks for that Uncle Agravaine) and needed to move on.

His options are:  
1) Move to a non-footie-playing country where they won’t care that he’s over the hill.  
2) Become an actor like Vinnie Jones.  
3) Become a sports presenter on Match of the Day.

Of course, Arthur favours option three and, according to Agravaine, that means he needs to raise his profile. 

Apparently raising his profile involves dressing like a pillock and prancing about on stage every Saturday night until christmas. Unless he gets lucky and gets knocked out early. And from Saturday’s performance, that seems highly likely.

Again, Agravaine had given him three options: 

1) Strictly Come Dancing. Pros – one of the most watched programmes on UK telly and therefore the most exposure. Cons – dressing in sequins, dancing, and most importantly, the fact that his sister is one of the professional dancers.

2) Dancing on Ice. Pros – none, not a single one. Cons – still dressing in sequins and dancing, but this time on ice, with potentially lethal consequences, and he’s had enough injuries lately, thanks.

3) Celebrity Masterchef. Pros – no dancing, no dressing up. Cons – quite possibly poisoning someone or burning down the studio. Arthur can just about boil an egg (the time he forgot about it and let it boil dry till it actually hit the ceiling does not count) and stick some bread in the toaster, that is it.

So yeah, here he is. And to be honest, the ice skating one is starting to look like the better option, because no one watches that and therefore no one would see him make a fool of himself. He’s already made the mistake of reading some of the online responses, they were not kind. One even referred to him as a dancing donkey and had made a rather cruel manip of him dancing with donkey ears.

He can hear Sofia’s professional dancer partner start up the music for their own rehearsal in the studio next door. For want of anything better to do, he creeps down the corridor and takes a peek.

Sofia’s partner, Melvin, is a gangly bloke with a mop of black hair who Arthur recognises as being the one who always plays the fool. He is dancing with a woman Arthur thinks is called Flora, he’s not sure who she is, but she might be a presenter on breakfast television. Whatever the dance is they are doing, the music is fairly fast paced and Melvin is walking through the steps and doing some weird thing where he minces and rolls his hips around while Flora watches looking fairly horrified. 

This pair are among his main competition, they were only one point above him on Saturday. Then there is Cenred Jenkins, the sort of Labour politician that makes Arthur wish he voted Tory. Of course, the one he really wants to beat is Morgana, especially as she is dancing with Leon Kaye, a fellow sportsman, if you can count cricket as a proper sport. There has always been a rivalry between them, but this is her turf, what the hell made him think he stood a chance? Morgana has been dancing since she was little, Arthur has been dancing for three weeks. Morgana and Leon are second on the leaderboard, Arthur and Sofia are fourteenth out of a possible fifteen. 

Just then, as Melvin moves closer to the door, he looks up. A pair of bright blue eyes meet Arthur’s own and Arthur quickly steps back, a quick thrill running through him. It feels like those eyes carry their own electricity and Arthur rubs at his arms to get rid of the goosebumps.

Hearing the tap tap of high heels, he goes back to his own dance room to face Sofia.

“I am current Strictly champion,” she tells him in heavily accented English. “I do not do bottom of the leaderboard. I will not be the first to go out. _You_ will practice.” She points a long taloned finger at him the ‘you’ and spins around to start the music. So begins another week of hell.


	3. Week 2 – Practice

The foxtrot turns out not to be as easy as it looks in the old Fred Astaire movies Morgana used to make him watch on a Sunday afternoon during the brief time they spent living in the same house as teenagers. 

If Arthur had expected to have any of Fred’s grace and elegance, he is quickly disabused of the notion. His arms hurt, his feet hurt, his neck hurts – damn it all, everything hurts, ok?

Quickly growing tired of hearing his trainers squeak on the polished dance floor, Sofia had insisted he wear the polished dance shoes the BBC had provided him with, and now his blisters have blisters. 

Because torturing him is clearly her goal, she makes him dance whilst holding up a chair several times a day. Apparently he has better lower body strength than upper, and that needs to change. Today, to make things a bit worse, she has placed a broom under his armpits and elbows, forcing him to hold his back straight and his elbows up in ‘the correct position’ whilst then going through the steps on his own. 

She is constantly barraging him with instructions. “No! How many more times? Move on the three, not the two. Do you not need to be able to count in football? Have you been practising the steps at home like I told you? I do not want you forgetting them again like last week. Turn your foot the other way, you look like a duck. Lead from the heel. Tuck your bottom in. From the top, two three four…”

There are times in life when Arthur really wishes his father had taught him to be a quitter. 

“Sofie?” A soft Welsh voice breaks through the tirade at last and Arthur doesn’t care, he lets the broom drop to the floor and rolls his poor aching shoulders. 

“What is it? Can’t you see we are practising?” Sofia turns to glare at Melvin who is standing in the doorway. 

“Yes, Sofie, we’ve been able to hear you practising all day. It’s nine at night. How about you give the lad a break? Let him go home and take a bath, I’m sure he needs one.”

Arthur can’t help it, he sniffs his armpit feeling a little offended. And ok, so maybe he’s been hard at work today and he smells a little ripe, but that was just uncalled for.

Melvin laughs. “I meant to ease your muscles. It’s hard on the professionals, and we’ve been doing this all our lives, you celebs feel it more.”

“I’m a professional footballer, I’m hardly unfit.” Arthur is not going to admit his aches and pains to some idiot who spends his days prancing around in sequins playing the fool. Arthur has been up at training and in the gym every day since he was fifteen, thank you very much.

Melvin shrugs. “Well I suppose it’s just as well you can kick a ball with your left foot then, seeing as you have two of them.”

“Can you two argue later? I have to make him a dancer before saturday.” Sofia is glowering at them, cowing both men for all that she is only about five foot five.

“Actually, Sof, we really need to go over our group number for Saturday. Alator changed something and I need to work it through with you.” Melvin picks up Arthur’s bag and shoves it towards him. “You can go.”

Arthur is not used to being dismissed so casually, but he desperately needs to get out of there so grabs his bag and makes a beeline for the door, not even stopping to change out of his dance shoes. He just needs to escape before Sofia protests.

“You can not tell him what to do! _I_ tell him what to do!” He hears her start up and quickens his pace. “Why does Alator have to change things anyway? I cannot work like this!” 

Arthur escapes and practically runs down the stairs and out to his car before anyone can stop him.


	4. The calm before the Foxtrot

He is pretty sure he will never ever get used to sitting in front of a mirror getting his make-up done. 

His hair is currently pushed back off his face so it sticks up at the front, and he is having to sit very still while a woman draws eyeliner on him, hopefully without poking his eye out. 

Super-serious ITV News anchorman, Elyan Smith, is standing behind him wearing head to toe scarlet whilst he goes over his steps, while screen legend Annis Caerleon, one of his father’s favourite actresses, is sitting in the other make-up chair dressed like a cheerleader. Two men further back, who Arthur is doing his very best to ignore, are stripped down to pretty much nothing while the costume department make last minute changes. 

“Don’t worry, love, this will all become second nature to you before long,” the girl doing his eyeliner says with a smile. “Tauren and Cornelius have been dancing so long they forget that walking around semi naked is not usual for the rest of us.”

She’s trying to be nice, so he forces a smile at her. He’s not actually unused to seeing men wondering about with nothing on, football changing rooms do not tend to be shy places and footballers are usually proud of their physiques. But there is a difference between the high spirits after a match, where Arthur has long trained himself not to look down, and this completely casual just stripping down in front of everyone that dancers seem to do. 

He is pushed out of the chair so the next victim can be made-up. A young bloke with a can of hairspray advances on him and Arthur has to force himself not to turn and flee the room before he nearly chokes to death on the fumes. 

Finally, he is dressed up like a doll into a hideous white suit complete with white bow tie and white tails. Even his shoes are white. They’d arrived yesterday, just as he’d got the black ones broken in and starting to feel more comfortable. He could have cried. The new ones are pinching his toes.

Sofia comes over and fusses over his suit, much to the annoyance of the the costume department. She demands a few changes here and there before she declares him ready. She herself is wearing a floor-length silver ball gown and she looks exquisite in it – a fact he makes sure to tell her. She smiles tightly, like she can’t believe there was ever any doubt. 

Sofia drags him down to the dancefloor. They already ran through the routine on the proper floor this morning. Arthur didn’t think it had gone too badly, he’s been working hard on the steps this week so as not to have a repeat of last week where his mind went blank and he forgot every single one of them. He remembered the steps, he mostly remembered to turn in the right direction, and he thinks he held his arms up in the right position the whole dance. After this week, his arms and shoulders are added to the list of body parts that ache where they’ve never ached before.

Now, the first dance in costume, the dress rehearsal, the last chance to go through it all before once again showing himself up on television.

The first problem becomes apparent seconds into the dance. The new white shoes which are pinching his toes and rubbing his heels, are incredibly slippery on the polished floor, and he can barely take two steps without slipping and sliding all over the place. 

“What is wrong with you? Are you drunk?” Sofia stops the band with a wave of her hand. At least that is something, they are dancing to a Take That song, a dreadful aging boyband that Arthur hates with a passion, mostly because Morgana used to play them non-stop when she was a teenager. 

“It’s the shoes!” He tries to explain but she glares at him.

“Just do it properly and stop messing around.”

He tries again, this time nearly falling over. 

“Here, give me your shoes.” Melvin is standing on the sidelines watching. He is dressed all in black with a double breasted jacket and he actually looks quite handsome for once.

Arthur dubiously takes of his shoes and hands them over. Melvin takes a bit of sandpaper and starts scuffing up the soles of the shoes. He looks up and grins. “I saw you were having trouble, I nicked the sandpaper from the props department.” He hands the shoes back. “Here, try them now. New shoes and shiny floors are a disaster waiting to happen, we’ve all been there.”

There is something about Melvin’s friendly, open smile that makes a little something flutter inside Arthur. He quickly reminds himself that Melvin is the class clown and absolutely not someone he finds attractive.

The dress rehearsal runs much more smoothly this time. Arthur manages to completely tune out the music and just concentrate on getting the steps right. He makes it through to the end with Sofia only tugging him in the right direction a couple of times. He’s going to count this as a win.


	5. The Foxtrot

They don’t get to see much of each other during the week, but here they are again on show night, and the contestants are grouped together at the bottom of the stairs in a camaraderie born of hopeless fear and not having a clue what they are doing here.

Someone squeezes his hand and Arthur looks up. Gwen Smith is smiling at him kindly, and she has obviously been trying to talk to him. Which is just great, because he’s not intimidated by many people here, but she is one of his favourite singers and now it looks like he was ignoring her.

“I said it’ll be ok. It’s only a TV show.” She smiles again, and somehow her smile does seem to help calm his nerves a little. Of course, Gwen has done all this before, having won The X-Factor a few years ago. Plus, having become rather successful since then, she is used to cameras and lights and at least a little moving in time to music. 

He forces himself to smile, and he knows it must look forced, but the look in her eyes softens even more and he finds himself falling a little bit in love, even though she’s not exactly his type.

“It can’t be worse than having to score a goal in a world cup,” she says, squeezing his hand again. “The whole nation is not pinning their expectations on you this time.”

“Yeah.” It comes out as a croak, and he tries to wet his mouth to speak properly. “But I know what I’m doing when I play football. Now the whole nation is watching expecting me to mess up.”

“You’ll be fine. Stop worrying so much and enjoy it.”

“Easy for you to say, Gwen!” Leon comes over and claps Arthur on the shoulder. “What was it last week, Arthur? Bottom of the leaderboard?”

Arthur grimaces. Leon is actually a friend of his, but like most sportsmen, he is very competitive. “Fourteenth, actually.”

Leon grins. “Well, at least there is finally a reason for Cenred Jenkins, he made you look slightly less bad!”

“Leon don’t be so mean.” Gwen hits him lightly on the arm. “I’m sure Arthur will do better this week, Ballroom is easier than Latin.”

“It’s really not.” 

Arthur groans as his sister joins the conversation. Morgana is actually only his half sister, he didn’t even know she existed till he was about fourteen and she was sixteen. After her mother and stepfather had died, she had come to live with them, and they’d had this weird sort of love/hate relationship ever since.

“To dance Ballroom well is not easy at all. Especially the Foxtrot. I’m sure Arthur here will do just as well as he did with the Latin though.” She smiles sweetly but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I just need to borrow Leon for a moment.”

Morgana pulls Leon away and Arthur is left counting the minutes with the others. 

Before he knows it, the rest of the professional dancers have joined them and they are all moving up the steps as their names are called. As Arthur and Sofia move out into the light and wave, he can feel the panic start to set in once more. 

He is not first out to dance tonight, at least that is something good. Instead he is standing up a different flight of stairs watching the other dancers with the host, who he now remembers is called Vivian. 

First up this time is One Show presenter and DJ Mithian Nemeth. She is doing a Foxtrot, same as Arthur, not that he would have recognised it as such if you asked him. Foxtrot, Waltz, Samba, they all look the same to him.

Mithian looks beautiful, all feathers and sparkles. He partner is a little bit creepy, in Arthur’s opinion. He’s called Cornelius, and he seems to have a very high opinion of himself.

The thing is, Arthur doesn’t want to be a horrible person. He’s got on fairly well with Mithian since this started, neither of them having the first clue about dancing. But right now, he wants her to do this so badly. He wants her to fail, he wants her to get four ones from the judges. He is a horrible horrible person. 

At the same time, however, he really does like her, and he wants her to be showered with praise and come back smiling, so he is a fickle horrible person.

It turns out, of course, to be somewhere in between. The judges are not unkind, they tell her she has improved since last week, they tell her what she needs to improve on and she comes back up the stairs not exactly over the moon, but still smiling. She gets a 4, two 5s and a 6, and at least for a brief while, her 20pts will be top of the leaderboard.

There are fifteen contestants in all, so the dances start to run into each other. In Arthur’s completely unprofessional opinion, Gwen is good and so is Lance DuLac, an actor on Eastenders. He refuses to comment on Leon and Morgana, but if he was going to be completely honest he would admit his sister is brilliant. Annis does not fair so well, which is a shame because one of the few dances he remembers from last week was her Waltz. 

As his name is called and they take up their positions, he once again does his best to tune out everything else and just concentrate on his steps so he doesn’t mess up again. Sofia is still telling him what to do under her breath, and he supposes it’s not a good idea to tune her out too.

He makes it to the end of the dance with a sigh of relief. Katrina, the ‘grumpy’ judge is first up, and Arthur’s heart sinks as he takes in her expression. 

“Tell me, Arthur, did you actually listen to the music or was it just there for decoration? You were ahead of Sofia the entire dance, and to be honest, it was like you were dancing by numbers. Your head was down because you were watching your feet the whole time, which completely ruined your frame, I’m pretty sure I could actually see you counting. I suppose there was some improvement on last week in that you did actually remember your steps, but I didn’t see a single heel lead in there, you weren’t leading Sofia at all. _If_ you make it to next week, you will have to up your game. I don’t think you are even trying.”

“Oh now that’s a bit harsh!” Gaius, the presenter, cuts in. “It’s only week two, Katrina.”

“The others have all managed it.” She sniffs and waves her hand dismissively.

“Ruadan, what did you think?” Gaius asks.

Ruadan looks at Arthur over the top of his glasses and shakes his head. “You have clearly been working hard this week, Arthur, and I am impressed that you didn’t forget your steps. But Katrina is right, you really do need to actually listen to the music and pay attention to your partner. Sofia is an incredible dancer, listen to her.”

“Oh Arthur.” Finna, the nice judge, smiles sweetly at him. “I don’t agree with these two miseries, I think you have great potential. You really have worked hard this week, i can see that. If you get through, concentrate on the music more, add that to your hard work on getting the steps right. I know you can do better.”

“Young Pendragon. You will not fully realise your potential until you find the other half of your coin.” Head Judge Kilgharrah looks him right in the eye as he delivers his cryptic message. He says no more and looks down at his notes.

Gaius sends Arthur and Sofia up to talk to Vivian as they await their score.

“Arthur! We don’t agree with them at all!” Vivian gushes as they reach the top. “I thought you looked simply marvellous out there! That outfit really suits you.” 

Arthur has a horrible feeling she is flirting with him. Fortunately the scores come in before she can say more. 2, 3, 4, 3. They scored twelve, only two more points than last week despite all his hard work. Arthur could practically cry. They are definitely bottom of the leaderboard, even Cenred scored 14 this week for his waltz.

“Well done, brother dear,” Morgana says with a big smile on her face for the camera as she pats him on the back. There is nothing nice about the way she says it.

“Never mind, mate.” Leon is far more genuine in his commiserations as he claps Arthur on the back. For all their rivalry and his trying to wind Arthur up before the show, he is a pretty decent bloke. The rest of the dancers, professional and celebrity alike, crowd around to offer commiserations, all looking a little relieved that he is bottom and not them. 

The only ones left to dance now are Gwaine Greene, a much loved comedian, and TV presenter Julius Borden. Both were around the middle of the scores last week and Arthur doesn’t hold much hope of them being worse than him.

Sofia is glaring at him like he’s committed a personal sin against her, and if they get through this she is going to be hell in the training room next week.


	6. The Results

Despite hating every second of Strictly so far, Arthur is possibly one of the most competitive people on the planet. Therefore, he doesn’t want to go home this early. Besides, Morgana will never let him live it down.

The results show will not be shown until tomorrow night, but they have to wait around as it will all be filmed on Saturday. The time is taken up with the professional dancers doing some set pieces for Sunday’s show and a singer Arthur has never heard of performing his latest single. 

When the public vote is finally in, all the dancing couples have to stand in set spots under the lights as low music makes all their nerves stand on end. 

One by one, each couple’s name is called until only half the group are left. 

“The first couple in the bottom two who will be in tonight’s dance off is…”

The silence seems to stretch on for eternity before Gaius finishes his sentence. Arthur braces himself not to look upset when his name is called.

“Cenred and Morgause.”

Arthur starts to breath again.

He’s not safe yet, they will show the footage of the singer before reading out the rest of the names, but at least he might be able to beat Cenred in the dance off. 

The music starts up again, and Arthur once again prepares for his name to be called as the bottom two.

“The next couple going through to next week are,” Vivian says. “Gwen and Mordred!” 

No surprise there, Gwen was brilliant both nights. 

They read through the rest of the names till the only couples left standing are Arthur and Sofia and Flora Dell and Melvin. Arthur can’t really remember their dance, he has no idea if they were any good. 

“The final couple safe and through to next week is…” Again with the long pause. “Arthur and Sofia!”

Arthur looks around. Does that mean he’s through? Or is he in the dance off? Flora and Melvin have a red light. That can’t be right, can it? He was bottom!” 

Sofia grabs his sleeve and pulls him away as the presenters talk to Flora and Melvin about the dance off. 

He’s through, he can’t believe it. How in the hell did that happen?

He watches the dance off from the side of the stage with the others. Cenred doesn’t really do nerves, he honestly believes he is brilliant. His dance is still not good, but it definitely goes better than the others, even Arthur can tell that. Flora completely goes to pieces, probably due to being upset at being in the dance off. She forgets her steps, she trips over Melvin’s feet, she turns the wrong way and he keeps having to pull her back. It’s a disaster.

It is unsurprising when the judges vote for Cenred, even though most of them look completely revolted at having to do so.

Arthur has never felt more guilty in his life. That should be him going home, not Flora. He should have been in the bottom two. He goes over with the others to offer his commiserations, but feels like a total git for doing so.

To his surprise, Morgana pats him on the arm. “It’s not your fault, Arthur. This is just the way the show works, it’s fifty per cent a dancing contest and fifty per cent a popularity contest.”

He nods and gives her a small smile. “Thanks Morg.”

“Anyway.” She smiles brightly. “I’m sure it’ll be you next week.”


	7. First run through, the Samba

If he had thought Sofia was evil last week, it has nothing on this. You’d think he’d drowned her puppy or something. 

“You are useless! How did I get the most useless person ever to put on dance shoes? Morgana, she gets Leon, Nimueh gets Lance and Freya gets Gwaine! Me? I get _You_! Did you see Freya and Gwaine’s Charleston? Only in Week 2? You will never do that even in Week 10! I cannot work like this! I am a champion!”

“That’s enough, Sof.” Melvin is standing in the doorway frowning. 

“What are you even doing here?” She rounds on Melvin. “You are just as useless, first out again! How many years is that now?”

“I said that is enough. Arthur here is new to dancing, he did his best. It is supposed to be your job to encourage him, not to make him feel bad.” 

“New? He didn’t even listen to the music! And no one asked you. If I want the opinion of a loser, I will ask for it. Why don’t you just go home and put your feet up, you don’t need to be here.”

Melvin shrugs. “Think I might stick around actually.” He grins at Sofia and sits down on one of the chairs in the corner that Arthur had to dance with last week.

He thinks Melvin is probably trying to help him, Sofia’s tirade probably sounded quite bad from the outside. The trouble is, Arthur is used to being told he is useless, he is Uther Pendragon’s son after all. Harsh critique he can take. Melvin sitting there watching, however, is very distracting.

Sofia walks through the latest routine to show Arthur what she wants him to do. Somehow she manages not to look ridiculous with all the hip swirling and arm waving on her own. The dance is apparently something called a Samba, which Arthur has come to learn is one of the Latin dances. 

“So, how is this one different to the Salsa?” 

The look Sofia sends him is pure contempt. “That is the Salsa, this is the Samba, they are completely different, were you not watching?”

“Salsa is more sort of fast, sexy. Samba is the party dance,” Melvin says from the sidelines. “Think of a Rio Carnival, you know, all the feathers and glitter and glamour.”

“If you are going to sit there, shut up.” Sofia glares at Melvin. “You should not be here, I am his teacher, not you.”

Arthur can’t help but wonder why the two are partnered together when they don’t actually seem to like each other very much.

They go through the dance again, Arthur doing his best to put his hands and feet exactly where told. When she is sure he has the steps down, Sofia turns on the music.

When the first bars start up, Melvin starts laughing. 

“What?” Arthur shouldn’t snap, but he finds this whole dance thing difficult at the best of times without someone sitting there laughing at him.

“This is your Movie Week? Saturday Night Fever?” Melvin laughs again. “You do realise they are going to dress you up in the full John Travolta? Keep this up and you’ll be known as White Suit Man, the Man from Delmonte.”

“That is it, go!” Sofia points to the door dramatically, because everything she does is dramatic. “Get out of my rehearsal room!”

Melvin shrugs and gets up, clearly knowing when he has pushed her too far.


	8. Rehearsal

It’s Wednesday, and tonight is his second appearance on Mab’s spin off show, _It Takes Two_. Last week they’d kept showing video footage of him forgetting his steps, it had all been very embarrassing. He can deal with that though, giving interviews, flirting with the interviewer, that has been part and parcel of his life for a long time now. What his is having less luck coming to terms with is still the dancing.

He is just not getting the hang of the Samba, and Sofia is barely talking to him. Melvin is sitting in the corner watching again, and it is still very distracting.

They are trying to do a very awkward section where Arthur has to stand behind Sofia, her arse to his groin, and do a very unnatural sort of rolling movement and no matter what he does he just cannot get it right. 

“No, not like that, it has to be a smooth action,” Sofia tells him for about the millionth time. “No. Lead from the toes, not the heel.”

“What? But I thought… last week you told me off for not leading from the heel!”

Arthur nearly jumps out of his skin when a pair of hands land on his hips.

“That was ballroom, this is latin, heel leads for that, toe for this. Now, move your hips round, like this.” Melvin says from behind him, his hands guiding Arthur’s backside around. "No, save the figure of eight for later."

The next thing he knows, Melvin is actually pressed up behind him showing him what he is meant to be doing with Sofia. Arthur can feel his face growing even hotter than it had when Melvin had first grabbed his hips. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He pulls away quickly.

Melvin holds his hands up. “Just trying to help. Look, I’ll show you with Sof.” He moves behind Sofia and demonstrates again. It looks weird and almost sexual and Arthur is pretty sure he will never be able to do that anywhere, let alone on stage in front of people. “Samba rolls are quite hard to do, you’ll get the hang of it,” Melvin says, smiling like he really believes that Arthur will.

There are a huge number of new steps to ‘get the hang of’ for this dance, and Arthur can’t even tell the difference between a barracuda and a bottlepogo. Sofia has shown him all of them, and she shouts the names of the steps at him when she wants him to do them and as far as he is concerned, they all look the same.

Melvin takes pity on him and runs through the whole dance with Sofia to give Arthur an idea of what to do.

“You know, there are probably too many different steps in here, Sof,” Melvin says. “He’s only a beginner, would it not be better to just put in a few and let him get the hang of it?”

“No, if we are going to get the high scores we need to be better than everyone else. No slacking.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder, chin up defiantly in a way that clearly states she is right, no arguing.

Melvin can’t take a hint. “But you are more likely to get a high score if you give him chance to actually do it. He has less than a week to learn this. I mean, Arthur, do you even know what a Botafogo is?”

Arthur risks a glance at Sofia and shakes his head.

“How can you not know, I showed you! I showed you many many times!” She throws her hands in the air in exasperation. Over exaggeration must be a dancer thing, expression is part of their craft after all, but Sofia does not seem capable of not overemphasising every little thing.

“Exactly, and you showed him a Whisk and an Volta and a Batucada, all at the same time. It’s a lot to take in.”

“Fine, you are so clever, you teach him!” Sofia, eyes flashing, picks up her bag and jacket and stomps out of the room.

“Um…” Arthur looks after her, brow wrinkled. Has he just been dumped by his dance partner?

“She’ll be back when she’s calmed down.” Melvin says with the surety of someone who has put up with Sofia’s tantrums many times.

Melvin spends the next hour running through how to do a batucada with Arthur – not the actual routine, just how to do the steps. He’s quite hands-on, literally, which Arthur is not used to. “Raise your hip up, back heel in.” He positions Arthur’s body. “Roll the hips, move your leg from the hip. Put your weight further forward…” Again, his hands are on Arthur’s hips moving them into position. Ok, heel up, roll the hips – everything is in the hip action. Yes, good!” 

And even though Melvin is in his personal space and Arthur is not too sure how to deal with that, after half an hour he feels he does actually know how to do a batucada without totally embarrassing himself, and after another half an hour he thinks he could possibly actually do this.

Unfortunately, Sofia comes back before Melvin can get around to the other steps. 

“Come on, we have to go to the studio now for _It Takes Two_.” She stands in the doorway looking impatient.

Arthur glances at his watch and realises that they could indeed be late. “Thanks for your help, Melvin!” he calls over his shoulder as he grabs his stuff.

“No problem!” Melvin frowns as he says it. “But it’s Merlin, not Melvin. Glad to know I made such an impression on you.” 

Arthur feels his face flame again. He’s never been good with names, and now _Merlin_ probably thinks he’s even more of an idiot than he thought before.


	9. It Takes Two

“Arthur and Sofia, welcome back to _It Takes Two_!” Mab is grinning a big fake grin for the cameras. 

This is easy, he can do this. He fake flirts with her, she fake flirts back, no one expects anything more.

“So, Arthur, bottom of the leaderboard at the weekend, what went wrong?”

He laughs and flashes his best smile at her, the one he perfected many years ago when he first found himself in front of the camera. “Well, Mab, I guess I’m just not much of a ballroom dancer! Or latin!” He laughs again, hoping it doesn’t sound too forced.

“Oh now, I don’t know about that! You certainly looked rather lovely out there in that white tux.” 

He can feel himself flush. He knows Mab, she is a shameless flirt with everyone, she means nothing by it, but Arthur has never thought of himself as good looking – he’s never really thought of himself as anything other than a football player, because that is all he’s ever been good at. He rubs his hand across the back of his neck trying to hide his embarrassment. “Unfortunately we don’t get marked on how good the costume department is.”

“Aren’t they wonderful though, give it up for the costume department!” Mab starts clapping and the audience follows suit. “So, Sofia, how do you think your boy is doing?”

Sofia smiles sweetly. “I think the nerves got the better of Arthur on Saturday night. We practised hard all week, he was much better in rehearsal. The judges were far too hard on him.” Funny, that’s not what she’s been telling Arthur all week.

“And you are doing a samba this week, right? How’s that going?”

Arthur gives an exaggerated groan. “Samba is really hard!”

Mab laughs and Sofia does her best to assure everyone that Arthur will get the hang of it by Saturday. Arthur’s smile is becoming so forced his face is starting to hurt.

As they escape he is worried that Sofia will make him go back to the training room when all he wants to do is collapse into bed and never get out of it again, but instead she has her arm looped through that of one of the professional male dancers and merely instructs him to go home and practise.


	10. Saturday Afternoon Panic

Arthur’s nerves are back in full force on Saturday. How is he supposed to beat this dilemma? He either switches off all distractions and concentrates on the steps, or he lets the distractions in and listens to the music and lets everything get too much again. 

He hates the Samba. He thought the Salsa and the Foxtrot were bad, but the Samba is his nemesis. He feels silly doing all the hip rolling and poncing around stuff, he can’t get all the different complicated steps straight, and he basically just doesn’t get the dance at all. He wants to crawl into a hole and pretend he never has to come out and dance ever again for as long as he lives. He’s a footballer, damn it, footballers don’t dance!

“Arthur? Are you alright?” 

Arthur’s head snaps up fast. He’d thought he was alone, hiding away at the far end of a little used corridor at the BBC, but of course Merlin is there to see him have a mini meltdown. It’s starting to feel like Merlin’s main goal in life is to see Arthur at his worst.

He pastes a grin on his face that he can’t even be bothered to make real. “Yeah, I’m fine. Never better.”

Merlin smiles, and it’s all understanding and commiseration, and for some reason that makes Arthur cross, not that Merlin seems to realise. “Have you tried breathing exercises?”

“What?”

“For the nerves. I know a lot of our celebrities find the live shows difficult, especially those that aren’t actual performers in the real world. The actors and singers tend to fair much better than the sports people and news readers. And you know, you’d be surprised at how many celebrities forget to breathe at all while they are dancing. Breathing is kind of important.”

“I said I’m fine.” Arthur glares at Merlin, willing him to go away and let him stew in uninterrupted misery.

“Ok, ok! But you don’t look fine, mate. You look like you could do with someone to talk to.”

“I am not your mate. And if I wanted someone to talk to I would not choose you. Now leave me alone!” Because Arthur is basically about to have a breakdown if this idiot doesn’t go away, and he really doesn’t want Merlin to see him like that.

“Fine.” Merlin holds his hands up like he’s trying to appease a small child. “No need to be such a prat about it.

And then, just because he is apparently contrary as hell but didn’t realise it till today, as Merlin walks back down the corridor, Arthur wants nothing more than to call after him to come back. Apparently his own breathing and his own panic are more noticeable now that Merlin’s prattle is not there to distract him.

Before he can spiral too far down, a showrunner finds him and drags him to the costume department. He’s already been to a fitting and knows that Merlin is right and they have indeed gone ‘the full John Travolta’. Even so, he’s not quite prepared for how ridiculous he looks in white flares, white waistcoat, white jacket and a big-collared black shirt. 

Next he is whisked through hair and make-up where he is fitted with a black wig bouffed up into a quiff. He knows he shouldn’t complain, he’s already spotted Elyan dressed as a minion and that has to be worse than this, but he really does look like a Class A Prized Plonker. Besides, he saw Elyan’s Jive yesterday, sans costume, and no matter what they dress him up as, it’s going to be brilliant. The same cannot be said for Arthur’s Samba.

In the dress run he is still forgetting half the steps, which won’t seem to stick in his head no matter how many times he practises. There is nothing about the Samba that feels natural to him. The only step he is confident he knows how to do is the batacuda, and there are at least a million others to do. Well ok, maybe not quite a million, but it really might as well be. Sofia keeps shouting names of steps at him and every time she does he just gets more and more confused.

“What are you doing? You were better than this yesterday!” 

And the thing is, even Arthur knows she is right. Yesterday in the friday run through on the main floor he managed the whole dance several times perfectly. Ok, maybe not perfectly, but he had at the very least got all the steps right. Ish.

Sofia pulls him into a side room and forces him to go over the steps again and again. At least the repetition should mean that he won’t completely embarrass himself tonight, except that all it seems to be doing is making him more and more nervous and flustered.


	11. Saturday Night Fever – The Samba

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week Arthur and Sofia are dancing to You Should be Dancing by the Bee Gees from the film Saturday Night Fever
> 
>  
> 
> <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LUID0jSh2Ic>

Watching everyone else perform, it is undeniable that they are all getting better with every week. Everyone except Arthur.

Gwen is lovely, doing a Foxtrot to that song from _BLah BLah Land_. Arthur had hated the film with a passion, but the dance is undeniably beautiful and they get a great score at the top of the leaderboard.

Morgana and Leon do a Jive to Great Balls of Fire from _Top Gun_. It’s not Leon’s best effort, his long gangly limbs not seeming to be able to move at the speed needed, but it is sound enough to land them at fifth place. Arthur certainly does not want to know if Leon plans to ‘take her [Morgana] to bed or lose her forever’.

Lance and Nimueh’s Salsa is good, as is Percy and Kara’s Tango and Gwaine and Freya’s Waltz. Arthur’s hopes are raised a little when Mary Watts, an actress who used to be in The Bill, makes a right hash of the Quickstep, and Cenred and his partner, Morgause, do a very poor Cha Cha Cha. However, neither dance gets such a low score as his Samba.

The dance begins to go wrong when he misses the first beat, then after that he spends the whole dance playing catch up. He manages to completely mess up the batacuda, the one step he thought he could do, and Sofia actually starts hissing at him under her breath whenever he goes wrong. This only serves to make him more muddled and stressed till he ends up tripping over her foot because he goes the wrong way and only narrowly avoids falling flat on his face. 

Even Gaius cannot pretend the dance was good as they go over to the judges desk, and Arthur can feel the anger practically sizzling off Sofia next to him. And he can’t even blame her, because he really did do it better than that pretty much every single time they rehearsed.

“Oh Arthur, that really wasn’t your dance, was it?” Finna is still trying to be nice, because that is what she does. Looking at the faces of the other judges, he won’t be so lucky there. “I could see you were trying, and from your VT you’ve obviously been practising, but I’m afraid it just didn’t pay off. I think perhaps nerves got the better of you.”

“I’m really not sure what that was supposed to be, but it certainly wasn’t a Samba.” Ruadan is far more blunt, of course. “You didn’t seem to know how to do a single Samba step. Those Samba Rolls were almost painful to watch. The Batacudas were a disaster, the bit in the middle I assume were meant to be Botafogos? I don’t know what they were but they weren’t Botafogos. You were off beat, your weight is always too far back. But most importantly, I feel like there is absolutely no chemistry between you and your partner. Sofia is a beautiful lady, dancing with her should be a joy not a chore. It was just a mess from start to finish.”

Kilgharrah gives both Arthur and Sofia an assessing look that makes Arthur feel like he’s just been dissected. “Sofia, I know you are the champion, and you are an extremely good dancer and choreographer, but you really need to learn to consider your partner. This dance was far too complicated for a beginner, especially one with absolutely no dance background. Arthur, you need to learn to listen, not only to the rhythm of the music, but to those around you who are willing to help.” He sits back and continues his creepy staring thing.

And then, of course, there is Katrina. “That was an absolute dance disaster. I have seen creatures in a farmyard with more musicality. I know you claim you practised, but I honestly see very little evidence of that. I disagree with Kilgharrah, I think Sofia has done her best for you here, it was a very clean bit of choreography and with a competent partner it should have received a very high score indeed. As it is, they won’t let me have a zero paddle.”

Up at the view point, Vivian puts on a bright smile and prattles on about how good his costume is, and the other contestants pat him on the back and give him forced smiles. At least they can be happy that he will be the one going home.

The scores come in and of course Katrina gives him a one. Finna gives him three, and he can’t help but feel there is at least one extra mark in there for sympathy. Ruadan and Kilgharrah both break out the two paddles, leaving him with a grand score of 8. It is the absolute worst score he’s received so far. In fact it is the worst score anyone has received so far this series, possibly ever. He almost feels like crying, but footballers do not cry. Except Gazza.


	12. Samba Results

He is absolutely not hiding in the men’s loo. Ok, so maybe this particular men’s loo happens to be on a different floor to where everyone else is, but still not hiding.

He’s going to be in the dance off, there is absolutely no way he can avoid it this time, he deserves it, and there is no way he can win the dance off. And maybe he shouldn’t be here, everyone else is clearly a much better dancer than he is, but he’s not ready to go home, not yet. 

He hasn’t seen Sofia since the results, and it’s not just him avoiding her, this is a two-way thing.

The external door to the toilets opens and Arthur does his best to keep as quiet as possible till whoever it is goes away.

The door to the stall next to him opens. And he hears someone sit down. Great, now he gets to listen to someone on the loo.

“I don’t suppose you are ready to talk yet then?” Merlin’s voice sounds through the wooden divide.

“What is there to talk about? I’m a bloody footballer, not a dancer. I don’t deserve to be here and soon I won’t be, so there.”

“How do you know you’re not a dancer? You’ve barely given yourself the chance to find out.”

“Isn’t it obvious? Anyway, footballers don’t dance.”

“You know, the more you keep telling yourself that, the more it will hold you back.”

“What is that supposed to mean? You sound like bloody Kilgharrah.”

“I think you have spent so long being good at one thing, you are scared to try something new. Especially with Morgana being a world champion. In order to save face and avoid the risk of not being good, you have already decided you can’t do it.”

“How do you manage to talk so much bollocks with one mouth?”

“Then let me help you.” He hears Merlin move out of his stall and knows he is waiting outside for him.

Arthur is not sure he is ready.

“You have to come out sometime, Arthur. Ideally before the results show.”

Arthur sighs and unlocks the door to his stall. He makes a point of washing his hands, even though he wasn’t actually using the toilet, because it wastes a little time. 

“So, first off you really need to learn how to breathe,” Merlin says.

“I know how to breathe, thanks, been doing it all my life.” He is being petty, he knows this.

Merlin comes and stands behind him. He wraps his arms around Arthur and places his hand across his rib cage. “Breathe in.”

Arthur does as he is told, and again when told to breathe out. It’s good, and it makes sense, but the warmth of Merlin pressed up against him is more than a little distracting.

Merlin’s voice is nice and calm as he talks to him. “Don’t think about everyone else when you dance. Don’t think about the judges, don’t think about the audience, don’t think about your friends or family. You are not dancing for any of them, you are dancing for you. Just think about the dance, and your partner, and the music. Feel the music inside you, move with it not against it.”

He can feel himself relax back against Merlin’s embrace and tries not to indulge in the fantasy that he is in the arms of a lover. Merlin starts to move, taking Arthur with him, and after a moment Arthur realises that these are the steps to his Samba. Merlin stays behind him, mirroring Arthur’s own part in the dance rather than taking Sofia’s, and Arthur finds himself doing the steps the way he’s been practising all week, because he does know them, even if he is not perfect in his execution.

When they finish, Merlin is smiling at him. “Shall we try that again?” 

They run through the dance a few more times, Merlin helping him with the steps he is still having trouble with. Unfortunately they do not have enough time before the buzzer goes, warning them to be back in the studio.

It goes exactly as expected, and Arthur is not surprised when Vivian announces the first couple in the dance off and the red light lands on him.

He tries his best to follow Merlin’s advice, blocking out the audience and the other dancers, not thinking about how the public did not vote for him, well, not thinking about it too much. 

He thinks he did a much better job this time. Still not perfect, true, he still stumbled a little over his Botafogo, but better than the earlier attempt. All he can hope now is that Mary and Alvarr are as bad at the Quickstep now as they were earlier.

“Both couples have improved,” Katrina says, looking down her nose at them. “But not much. I’m saving the couple who have shown more dance promise over all. I’m saving Mary and Alvarr.”

Arthur’s spirits drop a little further. He’s going home, he can feel it.

“Both couples have indeed improved,” Finna says, looking sad. “I really don’t want to send either of you home, and I’m sorry to see you in this position tonight, but I vote for the couple who did so much better in the dance off it was like watching a different dancer. I vote for Arthur and Sofia.”

Arthur looks around trying to gauge the other’s reaction, not sure he heard right. Did she really just vote for him?

Ruadan looks over his glasses at them. “I can’t help feeling that one couple wants to be here more than the other, and although both did _slightly_ improve in the dance off, I have to save Mary and Alvarr.”

Ok, at least he got one vote, he can go home with his head held high. Sort of.

“That is two votes for Mary and Alvarr and one for Arthur and Sofia. As Head Judge, Kilgharrah has the deciding vote, whoever he chooses will go through to next week, the other couple will leave _Strictly Come Dancing_ ,” Gaius tells the camera.

“Mary, I know you have tried very hard, and the improvement is very good,” Kilgharrah says. “But I feel we have more to see yet from the young Pendragon, and for that reason I am saving Arthur and Sofia.”

Arthur nearly stops breathing. Is he through? Did that really just happen? One look at Mary’s face says it did. Without even thinking he puts his arms around her. “I am so sorry.”

She gives him a watery smile. “That’s how the competition goes.” 

The celebrities and a few of the dancers and judges as well as the crew end up celebrating in the bar for most of the night. Mary is a really good sport about getting knocked out of the competition and apparently doesn’t hate Arthur at all. 

A lot of the professional dancers disappear early, apparently it is Mordred’s birthday and Arthur doesn’t dare ask how old he is for fear of discovering that he really is eighteen. He isn’t sure if Sofia goes with them or not, she stormed off in a rage after the dance off and he hasn’t seen her since. Merlin, however, stays behind and spends the evening talking to the celebrities. Arthur just wishes he didn’t spend so much of the time talking to Gwen.


	13. It Takes Two – to Tango

“So, Arthur, your first dance off! How was it?”

Arthur laughs and tries not to let it show on his face how stupid he thinks that question is.

“Well, Mab, I won’t lie, it’s not exactly a fun situation to find yourself in, but it wasn’t exactly a surprise, we were bottom of the leaderboard so we deserved to be in the dance off.”

He can practically feel Sofia bristle beside him at that. She certainly does not believe they should have been in the dance off, and the fact that they were she is laying very firmly at Arthur’s door. 

To the camera, however, she smiles sweetly and tells Mab, “I think the judges were unfairly harsh on poor Arthur, he tried his best.” If only she could be so nice when the cameras were off.

“And how about Kilgharrah’s opinion of your choreography, do you think it was too difficult for a beginner?”

“Not at all, Arthur had the steps down fine by Friday. I just think nerves got the better of him.”

Life with Sofia over the last two days has been unbearable, and even though she’s barely spoken to Arthur, he has heard her chuntering away about Kilgharrah daring to criticize her.

“So, what dance are you doing this week?”

“Tango,” Arthur and Sofia both say at the same time.

“And how is that going?”

Well, in truth, it’s not. Sofia has choreographed a routine, and she has run through it whilst saying as little to Arthur as possible. She has given him steps to learn. If Arthur were a better dancer, he might be doing alright, he might have learned what to do by now. If Arthur were a better dancer, they wouldn’t have been in the bottom two, and Sofia would be talking to him.

“Fine!” He’s pretty sure the smile is too bright and too forced.

“Show me your Tango face then.” Mab smiles expectantly.

Feeling at a loss, Arthur is forced to look to Sofia for guidance. Sofia pulls a scowl, not much different than her usual expression, and Arthur does his best to copy her, Frowning down the camera.

Mab claps her hands. “Wonderful! I can tell this is going to be your dance!”

Arthur forces another smile. 

They shuffle off backstage as soon as they are able. At least being in the bottom two means they got _Takes Two_ out of the way early.

“So, Sof, I hear we may be seeing Merlin in the competition again this weekend!” One of the other dancers, Aglain, says. Arthur likes Aglain, who is dancing with Annis. He is a friend of Merlin’s and is a little older than the other professional dancers. 

“Merlin?” Sofia looks puzzled. “No, he went out last week.”

“Oh, did you not hear? A few of the other pros seem to have been hit with food poisoning at the weekend when they went out for Mordred’s birthday. Merlin has been helping Gwen with her Jive and Alvarr has been dancing with Mithian. Mordred, Kara, Cornelius and Gilli are all too ill to even get out of bed.”

“So if they aren’t better by Saturday, Merlin and Alvarr will be their partners?” Arthur asked. 

“Looks like it, it’s about time Merlin got a decent shot.”

Sofia sniffs. “It won’t last long, even if Mordred is not better by Saturday, and I’m sure he will be, Merlin will only be dancing with her for one week. Even then they will probably go home, Merlin is a disaster.”

Aglain frowns. “I’m not sure that’s fair, Merlin is a very good dancer. They normally give him partners that struggle because he makes them feel more confident, it’s like his specialist skill.”

“He doesn’t make them win though, does he?” There is an ugly sneer maring Sofia’s otherwise beautiful face. 

Aglain thankfully refrains from mentioning that Sofia herself was in the bottom two at the weekend. And Arthur doesn’t say that actually, it was Merlin who got him through, he’s pretty sure he’d be sitting at home feeling sorry for himself right now without him. 

There is a bit of him that feels jealous of Gwen getting to dance with Merlin while he is stuck with Sofia, but there is no point in feeling like that because he doesn’t actually wish Sofia ill, and it’s not like they’d let two men partner on _Strictly_ anyway.


	14. No, really, two would be good here

Arthur is surprised to find himself first to the dance studio on Wednesday morning. Even though he’s never late here, he’s never been here before Sofia. The trouble is, without her here, he can’t actually get in. He goes and buys himself a coffee and a bacon roll and sits in his car to eat it while he waits for her.

By the time ten o’clock rolls round he starts to feel a little worried. He tries calling her phone but gets no response. He’s not sure who else he should call. He doesn’t want to get Sofia into trouble, but what if something is wrong?

He calls Morgana. 

“Arthur, what is it, I’m busy?”

“Sofia hasn’t turned up for our rehearsal.”

“Well? What do you want me to do about it? I’m not her keeper.”

“I thought you might have some sort of idea what I should do? I can’t get in the building, I only have a number for Sofia, you and one of the show runners.”

“Well, just man up and wait for her.”

“I’ve been waiting for nearly three hours. I’m worried something might have happened to her.”

“So call the studio.” And Morgana hangs up on him.

He tries Sofia again, it goes straight to voicemail.

Sighing, he dials the number for Daegal, the show runner responsible for getting in touch with him to let him know times and dates. 

He immediately feels guilty, Daegal sounds pretty busy, but fortunately he listens to what Arthur has to say and promises to sort something out before hanging up. 

Arthur sighs and looks about him for something to do. He’s gone way past being bored, there is nothing in the car to entertain him and if he plays another game of _Candy Crush_ he just might die of boredom. 

Deciding to be productive, he pulls out his phone again and looks up videos of how to do the Tango. Unfortunately, the very first thing that YouTube tells him is it takes two to Tango. Thanks for that. 

About half an hour later, a moped pulls up next to him and Daegal gets out waving a key at him. “Managed to get the spare key from Merlin!” He lets Arthur into the building. “I can’t get hold of Sofia. I was hoping you could just sort of, practise on your own for a bit? We have literally no female professionals available to help you at the moment.”

Daegal waves on his way back down the steps.

Arthur is not sure there was much point letting him in without a partner. He is not competent enough to go through the routine on his own, he needs help with the steps. 

Going back to his phone, he pulls up the YouTube video he’d been watching. Ok, so, left arm up, right arm curled around an imaginary person whilst holding his phone. Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow. Forward, forward, forward, side, and close. He’s got this, who needs Sofia? Next, try to remember the routine…

He’s probably been practising the Tango by himself, and feeling more than a little silly, for nearly three quarters of an hour when he hears someone clapping. Feeling himself go instantly red, he drops his arms and looks over to the door.

“Don’t stop, it was looking good!” Merlin drops his bag on the floor and comes over, lifting Arthur’s arms back up into the Tango position and adjusting them ever so slightly. He takes the phone away with a grin and drops it onto his bag. Then, to Arthur’s surprise, he takes the position of the female dancer. “Shall we?”

Merlin actually lets him lead, even though he must know Arthur has no clue what he’s doing. With Sofia, she always makes it look like Arthur is leading, but he’s actually just being steered about by her.

“Ok, good.” Merlin nods. “Now try it again with your head to the side, good, and I know this is easier said than done, but try to keep level – no rise and fall in the Tango.”

They try the basic steps a few more times till Merlin is happy, and Arthur quickly discovers that making Merlin happy is his new goal in life because when he smiles it lights up his whole face and that is something Arthur wants to see more of.

“Ok, so, how much of the routine do you remember? And do you know what your music is?” Merlin crosses over to the the music system in the corner and turns it on to the last song played. “Oh shit, please tell me you are not dancing to Brittany?”

Arthur shrugs. “I didn’t pick it.”

Merlin shakes his head. “Toxic. It sort of suits her.”

Arthur laughs in surprise, he hadn’t actually expected Merlin to criticise Sofia.

They start trying to fit what Arthur remembers of the routine to the music. It’s a slow process, but Arthur definitely thinks he’s getting the hang of this dance better than the others.

“Most celebrities seem to think the Tango and the Paso are just about stomping about and looking angry,” Merlin tells him. “But it’s so much more than that. The Tango is a seductive, dominant dance, you should be able to feel the electricity between the dancers.”

That sends a spike of fear through Arthur. He does feel a certain electricity between him and Merlin, and he’s doing his best to push it away, not bring it to the front. And as for Sofia, the only electricity between them is the fact that she seems to hate him more and more every week.

By two o’clock they are both starving and head off to the café around the corner for some good old fashioned carbs.

“I thought you were dancing with Gwen this week?” Arthur says as they wait for their food. 

Merlin shakes his head. “Mordred wasn’t hit as bad as the rest of them. Apparently they all went for a kebab on saturday night after the show, and I don’t know where they went but the lot of them were pretty ill Monday and Tuesday. I think Mordred’s illness might have had more to do with the amount he drank than the kebabs. He’s usually vegetarian so unless the alcohol made him forget that, which is a possibility, he wouldn’t have had one anyway. 

“But the others are all still out of action?”

Merlin nods as their food arrives. “Yes, hopefully they will be better in time for Saturday’s live show.”

“Sofia didn’t go out with them though, did she?” Arthur liberally pours brown sauce over his chips.

“What, you think she got really delayed reaction food poisoning?” Merlin wrinkles his nose at the brown sauce and picks up the squeezy tomato instead.

Arthur shrugs. “I guess I’m just worried about her.” 

“I didn’t know you cared.”

“We might not be getting on that well, but I don’t want her to be ill.”

Merlin nods. “I know what you mean. I guess I’m just more used to Sofia going off when she doesn’t get her own way. I should imagine she is still sulking about being in the dance off – she never has been before you know. I’m surprised she didn’t quit on the spot.

They finish their lunch and go back to rehearsal.

Of course, having spent most of the morning sitting by himself in his car, when they return from lunch the studio is suddenly full of people.

Alice, the _Strictly_ head honcho is there with the four judges, Gaius, Alator the head choreographer and several other bigwigs that Arthur doesn’t know. 

And there, cutting an utterly tragic figure on a chair in the middle is Sofia, one foot bandaged and propped up on another chair, a pair of crutches by her side. 

“Oh, Arthur, there you are!” she cries out. “I’m so sorry, I slipped on the steps coming out of my apartment this morning. The doctors say my ankle is not broken, just badly sprained, but there is no way I’m going to be able to dance on it this weekend.” 

A single tear runs down her face, and yet, there is something of a smirk playing about her lips that makes Arthur doubt the whole story. He’s basically and effectively just been dumped by his dance partner. 

And just as he was starting to feel he might be getting the hang of this.

He opens his mouth but he doesn’t know what to say. In theory he should offer her sympathy but he’s almost positive there is absolutely nothing wrong with her other than the fact she cannot bear to lose. He glances at Merlin and sees a similar look of mistrust on his face.

“Needless to say,” Kilgharrah says when it becomes clear no one is going to speak. “This puts us in a rather awkward position with regards to the competition.”

“Yes, or more specifically, your place in the competition,” Alice says. “Of course, we have had situations like this before, and we usually have a few spare professional dancers we can call on. But in light of the recent food poisoning incident, and the fact that only female celebrities, and therefore male professionals, have gone out of the competition so far, I’m afraid we have absolutely no female professionals available at the moment to dance with you.”

“Surely one of them might be available by Saturday?” Alator says. “Mordred is already feeling better, the rest should be on their feet by then.”

“That is hardly fair on Arthur, though.” Gaius looks around the room, one eyebrow raised. “He needs to rehearse the routine before Saturday.”

The room is silent for a moment before Merlin offers the obvious solution. “I could dance with him.”

“Merlin, are you sure about this?” Gaius asks.

“I’ve been rehearsing with him already, we are fairly comfortable with each other. I don’t think it would be fair on Arthur to ask him to work with someone he doesn’t know. We only have two days left.”

“Strictly has never had a same-sex couple, there will be a public outcry!’ Katrina shakes her head. “It will never work.”

“Surely it is about time we _did_ have a same-sex couple then?” Kilgharrah looks for all the world like he is loving this. “There is a fine tradition in dance of men dancing with men and women dancing with women that has been hitherto ignored in competition. The Tango, for example, which is what I believe these two young men will be dancing, started out as a dance performed between men in Buenos Aires as a show of dominance and masculinity.”

“Well, I think that would be more an Argentine Tango than a European one, but I concede your point. And think of the publicity!” Ruadan is smiling. “This will get us front page of every paper!”

Oh, hell no! A cold feeling shivers it’s way down Arthur’s spine; this is not the sort of publicity he wanted! He has spent his whole professional career keeping his sexuality under the radar and now everyone will take one look at a male/male couple and assume the worst. Footballers don’t dance, and they certainly don’t dance with other men.

“Are you alright, Arthur?” Merlin whispers beside him as the bosses all argue among themselves.

Arthur nods, because what else can he do? Admit he’s having a big gay crisis? Yeah, that’ll go down well.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything, it’s just two people dancing,” Merlin says. “There is no more reason to assume there is anything between us than to assume there is anything between you and Sofia.”

Arthur nods. He knows Merlin is right, he’s just being silly. And of course, he’s technically not a footballer any more, so does it matter? And it’s not like _Strictly Come Dancing_ is the most masculine show he could have chosen to do if he wanted to preserve his lie. 

Merlin makes him feel like he can dance, and he really enjoys dancing with him. Surely that is better than dancing with Sofia?

He suddenly realises they are all staring at him. “What?”

“I said, do you have any objections to dancing with Merlin, at least until we can find you a proper partner?” Alice says.

He shakes his head. “No, no objections here.” He smiles perhaps a little too brightly to hide the panic rising in his chest.


	15. Shout, shout, let it all out

“Arthur, why did you not consult with me about this?” Agravaine, his uncle and self-appointed agent is not happy with him.

“I didn’t really have time, Uncle, they put me on the spot. Anyway, I needed a dance partner, I now have a dance partner, what’s the problem?” He shifts the phone to his other ear as his uncle drones on.

“I don’t think this is a good idea. Dancing with another man, what sort of signal will that send out? I told you years ago, you have to keep the whole liking men thing to yourself.”

“Yes, Uncle, I know. And I have. But it’s only dancing. It was your idea to sign me up for the campest show on the planet in the first place, remember?”

“The plan was you’d have an affair with a beautiful dancer and squash all those rumours.”

“What? Well that was never going to happen! Even if I was interested in women in _that_ way, Sofia is a cow.” He’s doing a sort of loud whisper into his phone, even though he’s sitting in his car outside Elmstree Studio and no one can hear him. “And there really aren’t any rumours to speak of, I have no private life to have rumours about, you’ve made sure of that.”

“The fact you never have any women in your life is enough to create rumours. I’ve encouraged you enough times to get a girlfriend.”

“And I’ve told _you_ enough times, I am not prepared to lie like that. I don’t care if there are rumours, Merlin and I are just dancing together, nothing more.”

“And when people start asking questions, you might find you have to start lying then.”

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. I’m sick of all this, Agravaine, I’m not sure I want to hide anymore. If I can’t play football then what is the point?”

“I’ll be speaking to your father about this, Arthur.”

“Ok, ok, whatever. I have to go.”

Arthur hangs up on him. Then, because he is absolutely sure that Agravaine will carry through his threat and tell Uther, he switches off his phone. He’ll talk to his father tonight, he can’t deal with him now. 

Maybe he should do what his uncle suggests and have an affair with a beautiful dancer. Called Merlin. Yeah, right, because that sounds likely.

 

Sighing he gets out of the car, ready for another day of lighting and costume fittings and the dreaded spray tan with the occasional bit of dancing squeezed in when they can. 

“Arthur, there you are!” Merlin is waiting in the corridor as Arthur walks into the studio. “I thought you’d be earlier than this. I want to do some practice before we go down for the run through.” He drags Arthur away to a corridor upstairs.

They have spent every spare hour practising this dance since the big meeting on Wednesday afternoon and they are still behind. Arthur has even been practising at home. He has been Tangoing while he makes his dinner and breakfast, Tangoing while he gets dressed in the morning, even Tangoing on his way to the loo. He’s probably even Tangoing in his sleep.

Merlin has simplified the dance, deciding that they are better off going for a classic Tango and making it as clean as possible rather than putting in a load of tricks they don’t have time for. Arthur is grateful for this, although he has a feeling the judges will mark them down for it. 

Still, if he can get through the dance without tripping up this time, he will count that as a win.

He wouldn’t say he ‘gets’ the Tango, although it certainly makes more sense to him than the Samba ever did, but he thinks he feels fairly confident about this dance now.

“Ok, show me your Tango face.” Merlin makes a grrr face that just makes Arthur laugh.

“How am I supposed to do a Tango face with you looking like that?”

“What, this face doesn’t scream dominance and sensuality?” Merlin pulls the face again making Arthur laugh more.

“Idiot.”

Merlin grins that big bright grin of his that does funny things to Arthur’s insides which he is not ready to think about yet. “Shall we dance?” He holds up his hands ready to dance the Tango.

Arthur smiles and mirrors him and they begin their routine right there in the corridor. 

“No.” Merlin stops him halfway through. “No, you’re still not getting it. Come on, Arthur, we have to do this on live telly tomorrow.”

“What?” Arthur is taken aback, Merlin has never been so impatient with him before and it is especially jarring after he was messing around just moments ago. 

“You keep doing it wrong! Do you want to go home tomorrow night, is that it? Is it all just too much for you?”

“Hey, come on, I’m trying my best here!” What the actual fuck is wrong now?

“I guess your best isn’t good enough. I’m beginning to see what poor Sofia had to deal with. You aren’t even trying.” Merlin is glowering at him, hands on hips, eyes narrowed. He’s almost like a different person.

“I’ve been working on this every spare hour! I have blisters on my blisters.” Arthur is close to having enough of this shite. The only thing that has been getting him through this week is Merlin, and now he’s suddenly being an arse!

“Aww, didums.” Merlin sneers at him. “I thought football players were supposed to be so tough, so fit. Is all the dancing too much for you?”

“Merlin, what the hell? You know how hard I’ve been working at this!”

“I know you think football is so much better than dancing, but seriously, we are about a million times fitter than you lot.”

“Oh now come on, I’m fit! I’m a professional sportsman!” 

“Professional sportsman? Football is just kicking a bit of leather about on some grass. And it’s not like you’re even that good anymore, look at that penalty you missed in the World Cup last year. You can’t kick a ball to save your life.”

Arthur’s patience wears out. “That is below the belt, _Merlin_ ,” he practically growls. That had been his last big game, and he’d fucked it up. They all started saying he was getting too old after that, and then he went and bust his knee.

“Really? Truth hurts, old man? England would have won that match without you, right? Although on behalf of the whole of Wales, thank you. There’s nothing we like more than to see England lose.”

“I’m a good player!” He’s angry now. How dare Merlin say that! They were already losing, and ok, so he should have won that penelty, but he did not lose them the fucking match! “That was one miss, do you have any idea how many goal I’ve scored in my career?”

“Do I look like I care?” Merlin holds his hands up like he expects Arthur to actually dance with him. “Football is a waste of time. Let’s just get on with the dance.”

“Football is far more important than bloody dancing!” He finds himself meeting Merlin’s posture and starting the steps almost automatically, even though he feels far too angry to practise right now.

“Might as well give up right now then, mightn’t you? What’s the point in doing this?”

“Because I’m going to fucking prove to you that I can do this! And I’ll do it a damned sight better than you will ever play football!” he says through gritted teeth. He can’t believe he thought Merlin was different to Sofia! Clearly all dancers are the same, worried about nothing but their own ego.

“Mind you, you were never that good, were you?” Merlin sneers. “You’re just a pretty boy, no real talent.”

“Think I’m pretty do you, dancing boy?” Arthur deliberately makes his voice low as he presses himself up against Merlin. They are so close now he swears he can feel Merlin’s heartbeat. They’re virtually the same height, it would be so easy to lean in and kiss him. And he can’t do that.

He tries to shove Merlin away but he really is stronger than he looks and all Merlin does is carry on with the dance so Arthur follows him and wrestles back control. They might be making him dance with a bloke but he’ll be damned if he’s letting Merlin lead. “What would someone like you know about football anyway?”

“Nothing.” There is something odd in Merlin’s grin. “I know absolutely fuck all about football.”

“What is with you today?” Arthur has never felt so confused in his life.

Merlin laughs out loud as they finish the routine. “That was the fucking best you’ve ever done that!”

“What?” Arthur is starting to think he’s got whiplash from the personality changes.

“Come on, you must have been able to feel it? You took control of the dance. Think about what Kilgharrah said. The Tango originated as a display of dominance between two male dancers. And you just attempted to dominate the hell out of me.” Merlin’s grin is back to it’s usual massive self, the corners of his eyes crinkled up, and Arthur can feel the start of a blush as thoughts of other ways he can dominate Merlin flash through his head.

“So this was just a ruse to make me angry?” He feels slightly betrayed that Merlin tricked him, and it doesn’t change the fact Merlin still said all those things.

“I’m sorry.” To be fair Merlin does look a little contrite. “I googled you just before you arrived, because I honestly really do know nothing about football. It’s just, and don’t take this the wrong way, but you are a little repressed, and you can’t do that with dance.”

“I am not bloody repressed!” 

The earlier conversation with Agravaine plays back in his head and he silently concedes that maybe Merlin has a point. Arthur’s been training himself to hold in every single emotion practically from birth. His father is a politician, he’s learnt from the best.

“Look.” Merlin puts his hands on Arthur’s shoulders and looks him in the eye. “It’s fine, you’re pissed off with me. I need you to be. I need you to remember that feeling and channel it into the dance. Take control, lead the dance, feel the emotion and let it out, don’t hold it in.”

“So I need to pretend to be angry?”

Merlin lets out a dramatic sigh and shakes his head. “No.”

“But you said…”

“I said feel emotions, not pretend to. If you pretend you just get the grr face." Merlin repeats the face that had made Arthur laugh before. Merlin steers him over to the stairwell at the end of the corridor. "Come with me.”

He follows Merlin up several flights of stairs till they reach the roof. Merlin grins at him before crossing over to stand on the edge. He opens his arms out wide and then shouts. “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

Arthur is suddenly left wondering if he’s allowed himself to be dragged up onto the roof by a madman. Merlin beckons him over.

“Try it, it’s incredibly liberating.”

“Try what?”

“Just shout. Just shout, make a noise, vent your soul. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“Merlin…” Arthur shakes his head and steps away from the edge. “I… this is not really me.”

“Exactly!” Merlin turns to face him, thankfully also moving away from the edge. “It’s not you at all, is it? You are far too English for that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means what age were you when your father taught you to smile politely at the cameras and give nothing away?”

“I…”

“Five, was it? The first time he got caught with his pants down? I researched you, remember? I’ve seen the pictures, your father, your mother, you, all standing there like the perfect little family trying to pretend it was fine that he had a daughter by another woman.” Merlin walks towards him and Arthur backs away, almost in a reverse parody of their Tango

“I…” the words catch in his throat. “I really don’t want to talk about this.”

Merlin doesn’t listen. “I also saw the pictures when you had to welcome Morganna into your home and still pretend everything was fine.” he moves closer and lowers his voice to something calmer, kinder. “Or when your mother died. Was it just in front of the camera you didn’t cry, or had he taught you to never cry at all by then?”

“I… please don’t. Merlin…” He can’t speak. He can’t speak because Merlin is right, he is too good at keeping it all bottled up. He knows that if he tries to speak at the wrong moment, his voice will crack. If his voice cracks, it will all come out, everything, and it can’t do that. He shoves Merlin backwards instead, only belatedly checking that they are now a safe distance from the edge of the roof.

“It’s ok, Arthur. It’s ok to feel something. Feel angry, feel sad, feel happy. Let it all out. AHHHHHHHHHH!” Merlin is shouting right in his face now.

“Ah!” Arthur says, pushing Merlin back. “Stop it, Merlin.”

“Why? Does it make you uncomfortable? AHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Merlin gets right up in his face again. 

“I said STOP!” He shoves Merlin again.

“It this is annoying you then let me feel it! AHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“Yes, it is annoying me, you annoying little shit! Ahhhhh!” 

“More! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“Right!” There is fire in Merlin’s eyes as he turns around and spreads his arms out once more. “AHHHHHHHHHHHHH! FUCK YOU WORLD! FUCK THE FUCK OFF! FUCK YOU KATRINA FOR YOUR SHITTY JUDGEMENT! FUCK YOU KILGHARRAH YOU CRYPTIC OLD FUCK! FUCK YOU SOFIA YOU EVIL WITCH!”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Come on, try it. It’s very liberating!”

Arthur copies Merlin’s pose. “FUCK YOU, FATHER! FUCK YOU FOR EVERYTHING YOU EVER DID TO MY MOTHER! FUCK YOU FOR CONTROLLING MY LIFE! AND FUCK YOU AGRAVAINE! FUCK YOU EVERYONE WHOEVER TRIED TO CONTROL ME!” He finds himself grinning as his words are carried away on the wind.

“That’s it! That’s it, Arthur! Merlin pulls him away from the edge and into the Tango hold. His face is flush from the shouting and the wind and his eyes look impossibly blue so close. “Fuck the fucking lot of them!”

Arthur swears he can feel the difference in the dance now, he can feel the confidence building in him in a way it hasn’t done since he was fifteen and he had his first trial for a proper team. 

“Fuck it all, Arthur. It doesn’t matter. Sand Fairy Anne, as my mum says. Or _ça ne fait rien_ , as Aglain insists is the proper pronunciation. Fuck everyone who ever told you what to do or how to feel. Fuck me too,” Merlin says, nearly making Arthur trip. “I’m that bastard that called you a shite football player, remember?”

Yes, Arthur remembers, but oh he needs Merlin not to have said that because now all he can think of is channeling this aggression Merlin has stirred up and fucking him into the middle of next week, and he’s pretty sure that is not what Merlin meant at all.

“The Tango is not about pretending to be angry or putting on a grumpy face and stomping about. I mean, I have seen some wonderful Argentine Tangos between two gauchos that are like a beautifully choreographed fight scene. But no, it’s not necessarily about showing anger.”

“So why were you having a go at me?” Arthur stops dancing, confused.

“I needed you to show emotion, or even allow yourself to feel emotion, and anger is an emotion that most people find easy to express. Tango is more about being in control, owning the dance. And it’s not about power over your partner because both give as good as they get, but it is about showing who is leading the dance.”

“So, I have to be powerful?” Arthur is still confused.

“How did you feel, downstairs when you were angry and trying to push me about? Or just now when you felt irritated by me? Or when you were yelling out at the world?”

Arthur shrugs, unsure of the answer. 

“Ok, fine.” Merlin rubs his hand through his hair. “How do you feel when you score a goal? When you go out to play in a world cup? You are top of your game, you know you can win, no one out on that pitch can best you.”

Arthur nods. “So you mean you want me to be confident?”

Merlin nods. “Yes! I know you are just a beginner, and you are unsure about what you are doing, but you can’t let that show. I’m sorry, I know this is all rushed, I’m trying to squeeze everything into half an hour before they come and find us for the runthrough, but yes. Stop worrying about what everyone else thinks, just be yourself. Be confident. This is for all dances, all of life in fact. Take it, own it, know you can do it.”

“I’ll try.”

“Do or do not, there is no try.”

Merlin grins that infections grin again and Arthur finds himself grinning back.

“Yes, Master Yoda.”


	16. Game On

Their costumes are surprisingly simple this week. He’s seen some of the others when they’ve done the Tango dressed in big suits with double-breasted jackets and their hair all slicked back – indeed, Freya and Gwaine are also doing the Tango this week and that is exactly how Gwaine is dressed, and if Arthur is honest, Gwaine looks hot, while Freya looks stunning in a form-fitting dress with a big slit up the thigh. 

Merlin, however, has paired their costume down to something very simple, with not a hint of glitter in sight. They are both in simple black trousers with suspenders, and white shirts with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Merlin’s concept is that if the original Tangos were danced by working men after a hard day, the modern version would be two white collar workers. He had tried to suggest they role play it as two rival stock brokers, but luckily he seemed to be able to see that asking any more of Arthur that week might just break him. Arthur is still not entirely sure about any of it, but he’s learning to trust Merlin so he’ll go with it.

He does feel a lot calmer this week, the nerves are still there but on a much lower burn. It probably has something to do with the fact that he actually feels that he knows what he’s doing this week. His new-found confidence seems to be almost self-perpetuating – the more confident he feels about the dance, the better he does it, which makes him more confident. He knows he’s not the best dancer out there, not by a long way, but he at least feels for the first time that he will go out there and not embarrass himself.

He’s been watching some of the other dancers in dress rehearsal, something he’s not been able to do in previous weeks, although seeing just how good Gwaine’s Tango is is almost enough to start his self-doubt again. When Morgana and Leon come in to do their Rumba, something he never wants to see, he decides to leave and go and find someone else to talk to as Merlin is getting ready for the group numbers the professionals do every week. 

“Arthur! I hear you’re dancing with Merlin this week!” Gwen greets him with a big grin as he enters the green room. 

“I heard you got there first!” He grins back at her. “I take it Mordred is feeling better now?”

She nods. “Yes, thank goodness. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Merlin is very lovely and he gave me some wonderful pointers on the Jive, but it’s nice to have my own partner back again.”

“Hmm.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I have to be honest, I prefer dancing with Merlin.”

She looks over at him and raises an eyebrow then shrugs. “I don’t blame you, to be honest. Sofia was never a good match for you. I mean, not that I wished her ill or anything, I’m really sorry she hurt herself, and I’m sure she’s a lovely person…”

Arthur finds himself laughing. “It’s ok, Gwen, I know exactly what you mean.”

She smiles. “You seem happier. More free. I’m glad.”

Lance comes over, looking a little uncertain. “Can I join you two? I’m not interrupting am I?”

“The more the merrier!” Arthur grins at him. He’s not as oblivious as people seem to think, he knows Lance is already half in love with Gwen, but for some reason he seems to suspect Arthur is too, no matter how much Arthur tries to tell him otherwise. He finds it incredible that a good-looking actor like Lance could lack the confidence to just go and ask her out. “Anyone want tea?” 

Gwen and Lance move over to sit down as Arthur fetches the drinks. “I just watched your rehearsal, Lance, it looks brilliant!” 

“Thanks! We have to do lifts in the American Smooth, it’s so hard, I keep worrying I’ll drop Nim.”

“Well it looked brilliant from where I was sitting.”

“Yours didn’t look bad either! I love that they are letting you dance with Merlin, he’s such a good dancer, it’s a shame that he always goes out of the competition early.”

“He’s a great teacher,” Gwen says. “I was just telling Arthur how much Merlin helped me with my Jive.”

“Well, the way I’m going Merlin will probably end up getting knocked out of the competition early twice in one year.” Arthur attempts to grin and not look bothered, but the idea of letting Merlin down is not a happy one.

“You’ll be fine.” Gwen reaches over and squeezes his hand. “It’s looking great so far.”

“I watched yours too, it’s really good!” Arthur says, trying to extract his hand without offending her because he can’t bear the kicked puppy expression on Lance’s face. “I don’t know how you find the energy to move your feet that fast.”

Gwen laughs. “Me neither, if I’m honest. I have never been so tired as I am this week! And oh my god, my shins hurt so much from all that kicking.” She looks down at her legs like she expects to see bruises or something to prove how much they hurt.

“You’re really selling this dance to us, I can’t wait,” Arthur deadpans. He actually thinks the Jive looks like a lot of fun and he’s hoping he’ll get to try it before he gets kicked out.

A commotion in the corner makes them look up to see Gwaine and Elyan laughing over some Charleston steps.

“I honestly don’t know how you make this look so easy! I thought it would be my favourite dance, but it is seriously hard!” Elyan is still laughing as he shakes his head. 

“I loved it. Best dance I’ve done so far.” Gwaine grins and Arthur can definitely see that such a fun dance would be perfect for Gwaine. He remembers them getting first place, but he’d been so busy worrying about the fact that he’d just made a mess of his Foxtrot that he hadn’t really watched it.

“Gwen, is that tea for me?” Elyan comes over and attempts to swipe his sister’s drink.

“No way, get your own!” She laughs as she pulls the tea out of his reach.

“What sort of a loving sister won’t give their brother tea?”

“The tea is over there, it’s free, get your own!”

Elyan mock-grumbles as he goes over to fetch tea for himself and Gwaine.

Gwaine is busy telling everyone a funny story about this year’s Edinburgh Fringe when Leon and Percy come in, closely followed by Mithian and Elena. It’s almost like being part of a team again, albeit in various stages of glitter and make up, as they call squash in around the table and Arthur’s loving every moment.

Loving every moment that is, right until Julius Borden walks over and squeezes himself in between Gwen and Lance. Borden is the sort of television presenter that gets people to go on his show so he can make fun of them – he makes Jeremy Kyle look like a saint. 

“So, Arthur, I hear you are part of this week’s _Strictly_ freakshow?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Julius smirks at him. “Well, the way I heard it is that you are such a terrible dancer Sofia decided to throw herself down a flight of steps rather than dance with you, and now you are stuck dancing not only with another man, but with that weirdo Merlin.”

“Merlin’s not a weirdo.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I offend your boyfriend?”

“Oh fuck off, idiot.”

“Well well, I really would have thought that Uther Pendragon would have taught his son better debate skills than that. Although what else could one expect from a Tory?” Cenred Jenkins plonks himself down opposite Arthur, just to make their quota of arseholes complete. “And do tell us, Arthur, what does daddy dearest think of his precious son dancing with another man?”

“That is none of your fucking business.” 

Of course Uther is not happy, of course he had complained long and loud, but that is still seriously none of Cenred’s business. Arthur might not agree with his father’s politics, but that doesn’t mean he likes Cenred. 

“Leave them alone, I think Arthur and Merlin make a cute couple,” Gwen says. She clearly plays that back in her head and tries to backtrack. “I mean, not a couple couple, of course, not that there would be anything wrong with that, of course, but as a dancing couple.”

“Any particular reason why you two have such a problem with two men dancing together?” Mithian asks, her face the picture of innocence. “Is it just common and garden homophobia, or is there something more?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you are talking about, I have some very good friends who are homosexuals.” Cenred’s look of outrage intensifies as the rest of the people around the table start laughing at him. 

“I wouldn’t worry too much, Arthur, I’m sure you won’t be in the competition much longer anyway.” Julius has a supercilious smirk on his face that Arthur would love to punch.

“Arthur, you’re needed in costume,” Daegal calls across the room, probably in an attempt to break up a fight before it happens.

“Well, we’ll see, shall we?” Arthur says as he stands up. “I didn’t exactly notice you being Fred Astaire when you tripped down the stairs in rehearsal just now.” He smirks back at Julius and leaves the room. 

Game On.


	17. The Tango

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week Arthur and Merlin are dancing to Toxic by Brittany Spears. Both dancers would like it made clear that they did not pick the music.
> 
> <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LOZuxwVk7TU>
> 
> * * *

The lights are down and he can feel the nerves starting to buzz around in his belly threatening to rise up and choke him like they did the last three weeks. The music is about to start, he can sense the musicians moving into position and he tries to channel his into something positive – and energy he can put into the dance. He is in control. He can do this. 

 

_Baby can’t you see, I’m calling…_

The dance begins and he pushes his anxiety into the tension of his frame. 

_A guy like you, should wear a warning…_

He can feel Merlin pushing against him, feel their feet drumming into the floor. It’s almost like there is electricity between them as they move together. He does his best to show dominance, step, step, step, side and step, keep his frame, not to smile. Concentrate on the music, hear the rhythm

_I’m addicted to you…_

Merlin moves out and to the side out and Arthur pulls him back, crushing him to his chest.

It’s funny how your mind can focus on the little things at moments like this. As he pulls Merlin to him so they are chest to chest he can see every dark eyelash fanning Merlin’s pale cheeks, and fine smattering of freckles over the bridge of his nose. How had he ever thought Merlin was dorky looking? How had he ever thought Merlin was anything other than utterly beautiful?

And then the audience is clapping and the spell is broken.

It takes a moment, he has to breathe, when did he stop breathing?

Merlin is smiling. That has to be a good sign? People are clapping, but they clap at anything, they clapped last week and look how that went. Concentrate on Merlin’s face.

Merlin practically has to drag him back over to stand beside Gaius and hear the dreaded judges comments. Ruadan is up first and it takes him a moment to look up from his notes. “Well, Arthur, I honestly don’t know what to say to you. You lost your frame a couple of times.” The audience starts booing. “There was one point where you were a beat ahead of Merlin, and you need to work on getting your weight in the right place so your bottom doesn’t stick out, don’t lean forward.”

Arthur’s heart sinks. He honestly thought he’d done better this week, but instead he’s let Merlin down. 

Some of the audience are booing Ruadan louder now and he holds his hand up to quieten them. “ _However_ , that was the best I’ve seen you dance yet. You held the feeling of the dance well, your footwork was clean, and when you got the frame right it was very good, you just need to maintain it.”

Arthur looks at Merlin. Was that good or bad? He can’t tell.

Kilgharrah clears his throat. “It has not been an easy week for you, Arthur. Not only did you have to deal with the setback of being in the bottom two, you lost a day when your partner was injured and then had to change partners. Saying that, several of our contestants have had partner troubles this week so you are not alone. As Ruadan says, what you gave us was far from perfect, but I think in the circumstances you did remarkably well, and I think you have a lot more to show us.”

Katrina looks rather less impressed. “Arthur, Arthur, Arthur. I’m sure you have a very nice bottom, but I need to see far less of it. It was sticking out like a chicken for the whole dance. As Ruadan said, you lost your frame a couple of times, you were ahead of the beat and your right hand was splayed on Merlin’s back like a serving plate. There was a significant improvement, but this is week four, you really need to up your game if you want to stay in this competition.”

“Oh for goodness sake!” Finna looks quite cross. “You are not being fair Katrina. These boys have done marvellously this week. Arthur, it was like watching a completely different dancer. You have found your confidence from somewhere and it reflected in your dancing wonderfully. You had power, you had charisma, and as Ruadan said, when you held your frame it was very nice indeed. You did a really good dance. Well done.”

Arthur is unsure what to make of the comments as they make their way up the stairs to talk to Vivian. 

“Well, that was quite the mixed bag, wasn’t it!” she exclaims brightly as they get to the top. “I have to say, Arthur, you can dance a Tango with me any time.” She bats her eyelashes at him in a flirtatious manner that he hopes is just for show. “So, Strictly’s first male/male couple, how was it?”

“Fine.” 

“It went really well.” Merlin is grinning. “I’m really proud of Arthur, he has worked so hard this week, and I think it shows.”

“It certainly does!” Vivian runs a proprietorial hand up Arthur’s arm. “Let’s see if the judges agree, the scores are in.”

Katrina is still not smiling, but the paddle she holds up says five and Arthur can’t help but punch the air. Five might be low by the standard of the other dancers, indeed she gave Morgana an eight, but it’s the highest single mark he’s received in the competition so far from any of the judges let alone her. Finna is shaking her head but smiling as she hold up a seven. Seven! He actually got a seven! He throws an arm around Merlin who is also smiling. Ruadan also goes with five and Kilgharrah gives them six, giving them twenty-three! Twenty-three!

He’s not only in double figures, they actually got into the twenties! Even at this early stage, he can see they are not at the bottom of the leaderboard, that place belonging to Percy, a gentle giant who does one of those surviving in nature programmes on ITV and who is apparently nearly as bad at the Salsa as Arthur is. 

Merlin pulls him into a hug and Arthur gladly lets himself be hugged. Leon, Lance and Gwen come over to hug him as well and he just hopes that this will not end this week – he’s suddenly enjoying himself in this competition and it can’t end yet.


	18. Tango Results

Arthur is not daft, he knows that not being bottom does not mean he won’t be in the dance off or going home, but at least he didn’t embarrass himself just this one time.

He knows there will be people who will not vote for him because they do not like the idea of two men dancing together, either those who think themselves purists who will complain that same-sex couples are not allowed in competition, or those who are just outright bigot. 

Then again, there is also a chance that others will vote for them _because_ they are two men. People who have been asking for same-sex couples on _Strictly_ for years, and others who just want to spite the previously mentioned bigots. 

And there might even be those who give them a sympathy vote, deciding it is unfair to send someone home after such an eventful week. There is part of Arthur that does not want to get through simply on a sympathy vote, but there is another part that insists he wants to stay in the competition by any means possible. He wants to keep dancing with Merlin.

He feels almost ill as the couples all move to stand on their assigned spots under the lights. Merlin squeezes his arm and offers him a smile. “If we have to do it again, we have to do it again. We can do it.”

Their names are not called in the first half of the couples who are through to next week so they have to wait a bit longer as those who are through are interviewed. On the plus side, they are not Isolde and Edwin who are named as the first couple in the dance off. It seems unfair though, Edwin is a little creepy but Isolde is so nice, she doesn’t deserve to be in the bottom two. She’s faced worse, of course, being a war correspondent for BBC News probably makes _Strictly_ seem like an afternoon stroll. Also, they were just a few points ahead of Arthur and Merlin…

As the camera moves back to the contestants still waiting to hear their fate, Arthur finds himself gripping Merlin’s hand. Percy and Kara get through, so do Morgause and Cenred who were in last place. Morgana and Leon are through, but that is no surprise, their Rumba had finally landed them top of the leaderboard. 

Just four couples left, it’s going to be them, Arthur can feel it. Twelfth place Annis and Agalin are through. Mithian is through, that’s good.

It’s just down to him and Merlin and Julius and Enmyria. He braces himself, ready to not look to disappointed when the red light falls on him. 

“And the couple in the bottom two who will be performing in the dance off tonight is…” Vivian intones.

…

…

Why do they always make this take so long? It’s cruel.

“Julius and Enmyria! I’m so sorry my lovelies, how do you feel?”

Arthur starts breathing again. He hadn’t realised till now that he’d stopped. They have got to stop doing this to him. He offers Merlin a small smile and suddenly realises he’s still clutching his hand. He reluctantly lets go and they go over to talk to Viv about next week.

He wishes he knew anything at all about dancing as he watches the dance off. He thinks Isolde’s Waltz looks better than Julius’s Foxtrot, but if he is honest he can’t actually tell the difference between the two dance styles, let alone the dances, and a large part of his opinion is based on which of the two he likes better. 

He desperately wants Isolde to get through. She is quiet, and initially her war correspondent persona makes her seem very serious, but she has a wicked sense of humour (even if he is a little scared of her SAS husband). And of course, Julius is a knob.

Isolde did better the first time around, she was eighth on the leaderboard whilst Julius was only tenth, with Arthur in the middle at nine. That has to count for something.

Except it doesn’t. Katrina, Finna and Ruadan all vote for Julius, for some strange and unfathomable reason, and he is through before Kilgharrah even gets to cast his vote, even though he declares he would have voted for Isolde. 

Arthur is one of the first to go and give Isolde a hug after their last dance. This is wrong, she shouldn’t be going yet. Especially not when Julius is standing there looking like a smug git.

Arthur might not be able to beat Morgana in this competition, but please just let him beat Borden.


	19. We can do this

“Shoulders down. Lift your neck, not your chin. Arms up. Elbow down. Not that far down, keep your arm parallel with the floor. Your hand needs to be flat. Good. Straighten your spine. Bottom in. Alright, maintain that.”

Arthur can’t believe he’d been looking forward to starting the week with Merlin instead of Sofia – the man is a slave driver! First they did a pretty intense warm up, now Merlin is basically torturing him.

The Waltz, of course, is a proper ballroom dance that will once again require him to hold himself in the ridiculous exaggerated way that he had hated so much with the Foxtrot. 

After they have spent the morning on the routine (“Lead from the heel. Good. No, now move on the toes. Heel, toe, toe, one, two, three. Again.”), Merlin makes him stand in front of a mirror to get his frame right.

“Ok.” Merlin stands behind him and talks looks at him in the mirror as he talks. “I need you to lift your rib cage.” He puts his hands on Arthur’s back and positions him like he was a mannequin or something. “Alright, good. Tuck your bottom in, don’t want Katrina to get distressed over seeing a bottom.” 

Arthur jumps and gives a small yelp as Merlin swats his backside. “Is there actually any excuse for physical abuse?”

“Oh, just wait till you see the bondage device I have for you later.” Merlin winks at him in the mirror. Alright, now I want you to practice moving your ribs like this.” He moves to the side and demonstrates to Arthur what he wants him to do, seemingly moving his ribs around like they are not attached to the rest of him. 

Arthur attempts to copy it.

“No.” Merlin pushes Arthur’s shoulders down. “Just the ribs, you are lifting your shoulders. Try again.”

Arthur tries again with Merlin’s hands on his shoulders.

“Ok, good, now without moving your hips.” Merlin’s hands predictably move down to hold Arthur’s hips still.

“I thought I had to move my hips?”

“You’re still thinking Latin. This is Ballroom, your hips have another job here. Ok, nice. Now, arms up.” Again, Merlin positions Arthur like his own personal doll. “Parallel to the ground, not to high with the elbow, ok hold it like that. Very nice!”

This is too similar to the horrible lessons Sofia had given him for the Foxtrot where she’d made him hold a broom under his arms.

“Posture is one of the most important things about dance, especially Ballroom,” Merlin says. “I need you to practise standing like this whenever possible. And yes, your arms will hurt. Do you workout?” Merlin gives Arthur’s bicep a quick squeeze.

“Yes, of course I do, I’m a—”

“Professional football player? Really, you never mentioned it.” Merlin is a sarky bastard. “Another really important aspect of dance is core body strength, not just legs. You need muscles here.” He puts his hand on Arthur’s abs and hums in what Arthur hopes is approval.” And here. “He runs his hands up Arthur’s back and kneads the muscles at the top of his shoulders. And of course the arms.” 

“I work on my whole body, not just the legs. There is more to playing football than just a pair of legs you know.”

Merlin hums again and grins. “Excellent. Hold the frame.” He pushes Arthur’s back straight again where he is starting to sag from holding his arms up all this time. “Ok, time for the torture device.” 

Merlin has a big grin on his face as he produces something that looks like the handlebars of a bike and proceeds to force Arthur’s arms through it.”

“This is a proper posture brace. I’m not going to make you wear it all the time, it’s just to get the feel of what i want you to do. Unless you disobey, of course.”

Merlin was not kidding, this really is a torture device! He’d rather have Sofia’s broom than wear this.

“Let’s Waltz.” Merlin is still grinning and it dawns on Arthur that maybe the amiable buffoon thing is just a front and Merlin is actually evil.

Mirroring Arthur’s frame, but without the torture brace, Merlin walks them through the routine a few more times again before they break for lunch and Arthur is finally allowed to put his arms down. To his surprise, Merlin comes over and gives his shoulders a gentle massage where they have stiffened into one massive knot.

With Sofia they had always gone their separate ways for lunch, but he and Merlin have already established a favourite café that they go to and they grab their stuff and head out the door. 

What is not so usual is the flashing bulbs that practically blind them the second they step out of the dance studio.

“Arthur! Arthur! Tell us what it’s like to be part of the first male couple on Strictly!”

“Merlin! What’s it like dancing with a man?”

“Arthur! Are you gay?”

“Are the two of you in a relationship?”

“Arthur! Over here!”

It can’t have been hard for the media to find them, and clearly today is a slow news day. 

“Come on.” He tugs Merlin’s sleeve, making sure not to do anything silly like grabbing his hand, and heads to his car.

“Merlin, are you and Arthur together?” 

Arthur is nearly at the car before he realises Merlin has stopped. 

“Do you seriously have nothing better to report? You’re like a bunch of children in the playground, ooh, look, two men dancing together!” Merlin’s standing in the middle of the crowd of reporters, hands on hips, eyes flashing.

“Merlin!” Arthur calls, trying to get the idiot to come away.

“I know _Strictly Come Dancing_ has a reputation for people having affairs, but most of the time they are completely unfounded. We are all far too busy learning new dances to even think of anything else! We are just dancing together, why is that a big deal? This is utterly ridiculous, we can get married no problem, but god forbid two men dance.”

“Merlin, will you shut up!” Arthur grabs his arm and physically drags him to the car, opening the door and bundling him inside.

He turns back to the reporters. “My _dance partner_ and I have no comment to make.” He hurriedly gets into the driver’s seat and starts the engine, not really caring where he drives to.

They drive in silence till Arthur is sure they are not being followed then he pulls into the side of the road and kills the engine.

“What the fuck was that, Merlin? Do you know nothing about talking to the press? You never ever give them soundbites!”

“I was just putting them straight! The ‘soundbites’”, he does the little finger wiggle in the air, “are of me saying we are just dance partners, so it’s fine.”

Arthur groans and thumps his head against the steering wheel. “Merlin… ok, look, you know a lot about dancing, and when it comes to that I will gladly listen to you. But let’s just agree that I know rather more about handling the press, yeah?”

Merlin looks out the window, a mutinous jut to his jaw.

Arthur sighs. “Do you want to know what they’ll get from that? First they will hear that you called them children. Reporters are always harsher on people who dare to speak against them, don’t do that. Second, they will happily use the part where you oh so cleverly told them all about the show’s reputation for affairs, whilst completely ignoring the part about it being rubbish. Lastly, they will pounce with glee on the bit where you practically told them we were getting married – especially as my father was so very vocally against same-sex marriage, and, incidentally, I already had him chewing my ear off on the phone most of yesterday morning when he found out about Saturday.”

Merlin is looking at him with horror now. “I never said that!”

“No, but they will make it look like you said that. That is what they do. Never ever talk to them. We will work out exactly what we need to say, I’m sure the show producers will have their own PR experts on the case. They’ll probably get us to make some sort of comment on Mab’s show rather than feeding the press monster.”

“Shite.” Merlin runs a hand through his hair. “I’ve really ballsed this up, haven’t I? They just made me so angry.”

“It’s ok. I’ll call the production company and let them know what’s happened. They really should have briefed us on this last week.”

“Maybe we should just head back.”

“No.” Arthur shakes his head for emphasis as he dials Daegal. “We carry on as normal, we are not doing anything wrong.”

After being passed on to several different people, Arthur finally gets through to the PR department and tells them about the Press riling Merlin up and exactly what was said. After being instructed to ‘sit tight’, they decide to brave the café for some well-earned food. 

The girl behind the counter grins brightly when they walk in. “The usual?”

They nod and sit down as she goes about preparing their order. 

“We all thought you were brilliant on Saturday!” The girl, Bronwyn, according to her name tag, says as she brings over two builders’ teas. “You make such a good couple. Much better than with Sofia. I mean, we all guessed that you’d be dancing together because you’ve been coming in here, and we’d heard that Sofia was injured, but we never said a word to anyone after that young fella from the production company came and asked us not to. You should have seen my mum’s face when Viv said you were partners now! In a good way, I mean, of course. We all voted for you.”

Arthur shares a grin with Merlin as they let her chatter wash over them. The other patrons in the café are smiling at them too and after the incident with the reporters it is nice to feel that not everyone is against them.

“So, what are you dancing this week?” Sonia puts their lunch down in front of them.

Merlin glances at Arthur, clearly unsure what he is allowed to say to whom. 

“The Waltz,” Arthur says. Surely there is no harm in telling her that? Merlin had already said so on Saturday night.

“Oh lovely! My mum used to do the Waltz, before she had her operation like. She don’t move so well now, but she was really good when she was young. She’ll be thrilled to know you are doing her favourite dance! I mean, we love Merlin anyway, us Welsh have to stick together!”

At that moment, a boy comes and asks for their autographs, his mother keeping a watchful eye from a couple of tables over.

“Are you a football fan?” Arthur asks. He’s used to young boys wanting to be football players when they grow up.

The boy shakes his head. “I want to be a dancer!” He passes the paper over for Merlin to sign too and Merlin gives him some advice about finding a good dance school, insisting that his mum’s in Pontypridd was the best but might be a bit far to go.

Arthur grins. Not everyone hates them, his father is wrong. They can do this.


	20. Absolutely not getting married

“So, I hear the two of you are _not_ getting married?” Mab is doing that fake-laugh thing she does that really grates on Arthur’s nerves.

Arthur glances over at Merlin and does his own fake grin. “Nah, he’s far too bossy and unshaven.”

This is the official line – laugh it off, make a big joke of the whole thing. Nothing to see here, not on your life.

A little bit of Arthur dies inside every time.

And the thing is, or at least one of the things is, he’s never been like this with anyone. Not the way he is with Merlin. Arthur has always taken a long time to make friends, a long time to trust anyone, and even longer to fall for someone. And yet he’s falling for Merlin, hard.

There is just something about Merlin. Arthur can talk to him like he’s never been able to talk to anyone. It took him a little while to get used to Merlin’s slightly off-kilter sense of humour, but now, having known him for just a month, it feels like Merlin’s actually unlocked Arthur’s own sense of humour that he never even knew he had. There are times when he’ll find something funny and look up and no one else is laughing, and then his eyes are drawn to Merlin, always drawn to Merlin, and Merlin will be the only other person in the room laughing too.

And when he does laugh, whether with his whole being or just with his eyes, which crease up into lines that should not be beautiful but are, Arthur’s heart does this funny little flip flop in his chest. 

But here he is, making a joke out of the idea of spending the rest of his life with a man who makes him realise that he wasn’t living at all till now. And he’s terrified that on Saturday he will get kicked out of the competition, and he will go home and never see Merlin again, and become the little grey shadow of a man who only lived for football that he had been such a short time ago.

Why had he ever listened to his father, to Agravaine, to his peers? If he had just been braver from the start, admitted that yes, this is me, I like men and I don’t care what you think. If only he really hadn’t cared what people think. If only he still didn’t care, and he could say, yes, I like men, especially this one, why is that a problem? Would Merlin feel the same? Would he stand a chance? Does Merlin even fancy blokes?

But he does care what people think. So he sits here, laughing while his heart shrivels away inside his chest. And Merlin does the same, but does Merlin even care?

Sofia is there on the _It Takes Two_ sofa, wedged between him and Merlin, cutting a tragic figure with her foot propped up on a sparkly pillow. “I am simply devastated to let poor Arthur down like this, thank goodness Merlin was there to step in.” It’s such a good act, Arthur would almost be convinced himself if he had never actually met her.

“Well this has all certainly created a furore on social media!” Mab says brightly.

“Yes, apparently two people dancing together can break the internet.” Merlin’s smile is a little off, but thankfully he doesn’t say more. The backlash from the newspapers seems to have earned them a fair amount of support from the public, if social media is anything to go by, but Merlin is under strict instructions to keep it zipped.

“And I believe you are dancing a Waltz to a song from the movie _Twilight_ on Saturday, is that correct?” Mab asks.

Arthur looks over at Merlin, surprised. “Are we?” 

That makes everyone laugh. “Glad to know you were paying attention, Arthur,” Sofia says smugly.

He hadn’t recognised the song when Merlin played it in training, although he had had reservations about it being such a slow romantic number. Merlin had simply told him that the Waltz is danced in 3:4 time and had to go at that pace, and so was traditionally romantic. Arthur, not really understanding, had let it drop. 

Merlin laughs. “It’s a great song, really nice for a Waltz, slow and romantic. There is far more to it than just being used in a teen movie. I don’t think Arthur likes it very much though.”

“Arthur doesn’t like any of the songs!” Sofia throws her hands in the air. “Every week, ‘I don’t like the song’. I’m not sure he likes music at all.”

“I just thought it was a bit too….” He wrinkles his nose and makes a gesture that could mean anything.

Merlin shrugs. “It’s one of my favourites, and I’m the one who gets to choose.”

“Well I for one can’t wait to see it!” Mab rubs her hands together. “I’m sure most of us would love the chance to dance a Waltz with the king of ballroom.”

Before they know it, their segment is done and they can breathe again.

“You never told me that song was used in _Twilight_ ,” Arthur says wrinkling his nose again. He’s never actually read the books, but he’ seen about thirty seconds of one of the movies and that was more than enough. “You do realise my footie mates will never let me hear the end of this?”

To be fair, his mates have been taking the piss ever since they first found out he was doing _Strictly_ , and it had only intensified after they saw how bad he was. Ever since Saturday when they saw him dancing with Merlin, he’d been getting nothing but crude jokes that he’d done his best to ignore.

“Yes, Arthur, the song is from _Twilight_ , and you have to dance it with another man. Both you and your mates will just have to deal with that. It doesn’t mean anything, you know. It’s just a dance, same as it was when Lance and Nim did a Waltz in week one or Isolde and Edwin last week.”

“Oh, great choice of comparison, Merlin, Isolde got kicked out last week! And I notice you didn’t mention Gwaine and Freya, because no one believes there isn’t something going on there!” 

Merlin frowns. “Freya’s not like that!” 

“Gwaine is.” 

Merlin opens his mouth to say something more, but instead he shushes Arthur as a tall man with grey hair walks onto the set. “Did Sofia ever make you watch Iseldir?” 

Arthur shakes his head. 

“Ok, Iseldir is an ex-pro, he really knows his stuff. He looks at the training footage and comments on what can be improved. He’s worth listening to.” 

As Iseldir gets to Arthur and Merlin’s rehearsal he compliments Arthur’s frame and footwork but comments that his bottom is still sticking out. 

Arthur sighs, he’s been trying to correct that all week. 

“It’s ok, this is from Tuesday,” Merlin whispers. “You’ve improved since then.” 

Iseldir gives some tips on posture and placing his weight that Merlin and Arthur have already been working on. From the gleam in his eye, Arthur’s bum is going to be Merlin's main focus tomorrow. 


	21. The Waltz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week Arthur and Merlin are dancing a Waltz to _A Thousand Years_ by Christina Perri
> 
> <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rtOvBOTyX00>
> 
> * * *

“Stop fiddling with it.” Merlin pulls Arthur’s hand away from where he is tugging at his bow tie. 

“It’s choking me! And the sequins scratch!”

He and Merlin are dressed in almost identical penguin suits, in a very very dark navy which will apparently look better on camera than black. Because this is _Strictly_ , there are sequins on the lapels and waistcoats and ties – the costume department refused to let them get away with no sparkle two weeks running and it was only pure luck, and intervention from Kilgharrah regarding stereotyping, that they had escaped wearing pink suits. As it is, Arthur is wearing a red waistcoat and tie, Merlin royal blue.

“It is not choking you, stop it! It was fine earlier.” Merlin pulls Arthur’s hand away again and keeps hold of it. Arthur really want to complain… But Merlin’s hand is cool and calming and he’s rubbing little soothing circles into Arthur’s wrist. “You need to calm down, Arthur. It’s only a dance, and you know it off by heart. Everything will be fine.”

“Aww, how sweet, look at the two of you holding hands, all dressed up for that wedding Merlin was telling the papers about.” Julius is smirking at them from the other side of the green room.

“Piss off, Borden.” Arthur snatches his hand away from Merlin.

“What a cutting come back, I can see you have your father’s sharp intellect.” Borden is clearly pleased with the sarcasm lacing his words if the stupid smug grin on his face is anything to go by. “I assume Merlin is with you for your sparkling with.

“He’s not _with_ me at all, no more than Enmyria is with you. Or at least I hope for her sake she’s not or she’s got serious problems.”

“Oh please, she’d be lucky to have me.” Borden preens like he actually believes that.

“I doubt Tauren would agree. But at least they’d never find your body.” Merlin smirks a bit to get his point across. Tauren is Enmyria’s husband, and even Arthur has heard the rumours about the last man who tried it on with her.

“Oh please, he could join us. We’re not all closet cases around here, some of us can appreciate a gorgeous body of any gender.” 

“Some of us view our partners as more than just a body.” Arthur wrinkles his nose with distaste. Serious relationships have never been an option for him, not if he wanted to keep his preferences hidden, but he’s always been more attracted to personality than looks. Of course, it would be easier if certain dancers not a million miles away didn’t tick both boxes.

“Ignore him,” Merlin says. “He’s just messing with your head because he knows we will get a higher mark than him this week.”

Julius sniffs. “I very much doubt that. Not unless you’ve found a lookalike that can actually dance.” He tosses his head, turns on his heel, in a way that would definitely get him an extra point from Ruadan, and leaves the room.

“We’d bloody better beat him. Stupid arse.” Arthur glares at the door just in case Borden comes back. 

“Is your father still coming to see the show tonight?”

Arthur grimaces. “Yeah. Bloody Morgana got him a ticket. Thanks for reminding me.”

Merlin shrugs. “I bet he’ll be impressed, you’ve worked really hard this week.”

“Hmm, I doubt it. My father wasn’t even impressed when I scored a goal in a world cup match against Germany. He didn’t even watch the game, he was far too busy shagging his secretary.”

“Well, at least he is coming now.”

“He’s coming to see Morgana.” Arthur shakes his head. “He always does, at least one show each year so long as she’s still in. And she always makes sure to invite him for a dance she knows she’ll do well at.”

“I’m sure he’s coming to see you too.” Merlin squeezes Arthur’s arm just as the five minute bell rings. “Come on, show time.”

They meet the others at the bottom of the stairs and share a few nervous nods and smiles. 

“I don’t think I can do this,” Mithian murmurs as he goes to stand next to her. There is no sign yet of her dance partner, Cornelius, and so she is standing by herself, trying to tug her dress together where it opens in a big slit up to her hip.

“Hey, you are going to rip that if you are not careful.” Arthur catches her hands to stop her, much as Merlin had done with him earlier. “You look amazing, by the way.”

“I don’t! I hate this dress so much. I… Oh god, Arthur, you have no idea how awful the Rumba is.”

“Hey.” Merlin puts an arm around her. “You’ll be fine. You have natural grace and rhythm, and honestly, the Rumba is not nearly as bad as people think. It’s just a dance, same as any other, I’ve been trying to tell Arthur that all week.”

“That’s easy for you to say, you know what you are doing.” Mithian still looks unhappy.

“Ok, my top tip for not knowing what you are doing,” Merlin says with a grin. “Pretend you do.”

“What?” Mithian looks confuse and Arthur can’t blame her.

“Pretend you know what you are doing. You’ll be surprised at how much you can get away with by looking like that’s what you were meant to be doing all along – if you go wrong, pretend that was what you meant to do. Confidence is key. Take a breath, remember you are fabulous, and get out there and knock ‘em dead.”

“Well well, Arthur, I hear dear old Uther is in the audience tonight?” Cenred always makes Arthur’s skin crawl. “Has he come to meet the man who is apparently going to marry his son?” He laughs at his own joke, fortunately no one else does. “Or has he come to see his favourite child dance? Morgana is doing exceptionally well in the competition this year.”

Arthur doesn’t punch him. He thinks he deserves a medal for that. 

“Actually, I think he’s come to watch with glee as you get kicked out of the competition, Cenred,” Morgana calls down from further up the stairs. Cenred’s face goes a bit blotchy and angry. It’s a running joke backstage that Morganna is usually scarily accurate at predicting who will be going home.

The bell rings again and Vivian and Gaius move into position to open the show. Cornelius turns up in the nick of time and takes Mithian’s arm, and Cenred does his best to smile for the cameras. 

Arthur feels his eyes pulled, almost magnetically, to where his father is sitting in the audience. He looks away quickly. This is hard enough without being acutely aware of Uther’s disapproving looks throughout the whole thing.

Gwen and Mordred are first up tonight, doing a Viennese Waltz, which as far as Arthur can tell is the same as the ordinary Waltz but with more twirling. They are dancing to _Mad About The Boy_ , which is at least a song Arthur recognises. Merlin has been trying to get him to connect with the music all week, and he’s been trying, he really has, but he’s starting to suspect he just doesn’t have a musical bone in his body. He’s liking the song better now, not that he’ll tell Merlin that.

Gwen and Mordred do really well with their Waltz, as do Lance and Nim in their Cha Cha Cha. Gwaine’s jive is brilliant, even Arthur can see that, and he feels quite envious that Gwaine gets to do the Jive while he is stuck doing the Waltz. They watch poor Mithian’s Rumba from the wings as it is the dance before theirs. It is not great, despite Merlin’s words of encouragement Mithian can’t seem to relax into the dance. Arthur can’t help but hope that he’s long out of the competition before he has to to do a Rumba, it’s all slow and intimate, how can they possibly expect him to do that!

“Calm down.” Merlin takes Arthur through their breathing exercises again. “Pretend he’s not there.” 

Arthur hasn’t actually told Merlin that he’s close to panicking, or the reason, but there is no doubt in his mind that Merlin means Uther. 

“I’m fine.”

The move out to the edge of the Dance floor and pull silly faces for the camera before the VT is played of their week in training. 

“Of course you are. Just remember to breathe, listen to the music, the rest will come.”

They move into position. Arthur closes his eyes and concentrates on his breathing rather than on that spot in the front row where he can feel his father’s disappointment emanating from. 

The first bars start and he moves his concentration to there. 

_The day we met, frozen I held my breath…_

He relaxes into the music and moves the way he’s been practising all week. Merlin is right, they’ve done this so many times now it’s becoming an automatic movement with the music. Heel, toe, toe, one two three.

_I will be brave, not let anything take away, what’s standing in front of me…_

The music flows through Merlin in every little nuance of his movement and Arthur does his best to emulate that as the singer pours her very soul into the words.

_Time has brought your heart to me, I have loved you for a thousand years…_

He knows it is just a performance, but Merlin is good at this, and at that moment Arthur can truly believe Merlin does love him, has spent his life waiting just for him. It would be so easy to believe it were true, just like the stories in the paper, that he actually had a significant other in his life, that this wonderful man was the one waiting for him to come home at night.

_I will love you for a thousand more…_

They finish the dance so close that they could almost kiss and Arthur doesn’t know if it is a blessing or a curse that the audience start clapping and pull him out of his reverie before he can do something so stupid.

Moment broken, Merlin suddenly grins and claps him on the back.

“That was the best you’ve done that!”

The move over to stand before the judges once more. To his surprise Finna looks like she is wiping a tear from her eye and he can only assume the music affected her as much as it did him.

“Oh my boys, that was wonderful!” She gives them a smile. “Arthur, I think you are one of the people who is growing the most in this competition. To think a few short weeks ago you couldn’t dance a step and now you are giving us a performance like that, it’s incredible. I won’t pretend it was perfect, there were a couple of places where you should have gone with a heel turn rather than a toe, but I could tell you were trying. You need to focus your weight backwards rather than forwards, and you still need to get a bit more rise and fall into the routine, but otherwise your frame was very nice indeed. Really, very well done.”

Ruadan is nodding. “Yes, that is a very marked improvement. I’m glad you seem to have listened to our advice. Your frame is good, you are moving with the music, you are leading your partner. However, your bottom is still sticking out. As Finna said, you need to lean your weight back into the frame. As soon as you lean forward, your bottom will stick out. I still didn’t feel there was enough emotion, this is a beautiful dance but I didn’t always feel it from you, but you were starting to get it towards the end. But otherwise, I liked it.”

“Excellent, excellent, well done. I believe finding the right partner has done wonders for you, Arthur. Ruadan is correct, you still need to emote more, you did a lot better last week with your aggressive Tango, but I still need to feel other emotions – if you are meant to be in love, within the confines of the dance, of course, show me. Still, a very great improvement, well done. You may well be the dark horse of this competition, and I expect great things in the weeks to come.”

Katrina, of course, looks rather less happy. “Your bottom stuck out for the whole dance, your thumb was sticking up more often than not, you missed several heel leads, and you were slightly out of step with Merlin when the dance started. There was not enough rise and fall. As for the emotion, I certainly got the impression that Merlin loved _you_ for a thousand years, I can only assume you fell asleep during that time. You have improved, but perhaps not enough to stay in the competition.” She looks back down at her notes and says no more.

They run up the stairs to speak to Viv, who welcomes them by asking when they are getting married because apparently every single person thinks they are the first to make jokes about that. Arthur doesn’t dare glance back down at the audience, he doesn’t want to know what his father thinks about that.

The scores come in at 5, 8, 6 and 7, giving them a total of 27. Arthur is ecstatic – of course it is still not as high as a lot of the others, Gwaine got 34 for his Jive and Gwen got 32, but considering a couple of weeks ago he had scored 8 for his Samba, he really couldn’t be happier with his 27. And the audience of course, had booed Katrina for giving them a 5, which he actually found strange because he’s just happy that she’s giving him a score higher than 1!


	22. Waltz Results

Of course, sooner or later, he was going to have to face Uther. 

Most of the contestants’ families would not dream of simply walking backstage, most of them would not be allowed, but no one ever tends to stop Uther Pendragon from doing exactly what he wants.

“Morgana, that was wonderful.” Uther puts his arms around her and kisses her on the cheek. “Top of the leaderboard, I couldn’t be more proud of you.” 

“Thank you, Uther, Leon has worked really hard to get to the top.”

“Shame the same can’t be said of everyone.” Uther looks over at Arthur with a benevolent smile. “Some ignominus position in the middle of the scoreboard, wasn’t it?” This is what Uther does, smiles and joke whilst belittling Arthur, that way he doesn’t look like the bad guy, it’s just that Arthur can’t take a joke.

“I…” Arthur wants to tell his father that right up until this moment he’d been really proud of his sixth place and that they’d actually done really well, but his words dry up as they always do. As they had all those times at school when he tried to tell his father that yes, he had studied for the exam, quite hard in fact, and it was Morgana who hadn’t revised, but she had an A and he had a C to prove otherwise, but actually he was damn proud of his C because he had worked for it. And he says nothing now, just as he had said nothing then.

“Actually, Arthur’s worked really hard too, and he did well tonight, I’m very proud of him.”

Arthur closes his eyes and holds back a groan. Of course Merlin wouldn’t know when to shut the hell up.

“And who exactly asked for your opinion?” Uther is doing that smile that makes Arthur think of a shark - all teeth coming to kill you. “You’re just the stand in, aren’t you? Until they can find my son a proper dance partner?”

Merlin blinks, then gives himself away in a game he didn’t even know he was playing by glancing over at Arthur. “Er, no, actually. The show producers have decided we should keep dancing together. They’re getting good ratings.”

“Is that so?” The smile drops off Uther’s face in a way that has every fibre of Arthur’s being wanting to scream at Merlin to run away, do not engage, retreat, retreat. 

“Yes, apparently the public thinks we look good together, and it makes the Beeb seem more inclusive.” Merlin does not have Arthur’s years of Uther handling experience, and so he just stands there smiling like Bambi completely oblivious he is about to get mauled by a grizzly bear. And ok, so Arthur’s never actually seen _Bambi_ and he’s pretty sure that doesn’t happen, but if it did, you know, that’s Merlin right now.

“How delightful to know that licence payers’ money is being so well spent.” There are places in Antarctica that are currently less cold than Elstree Studios. Uther switches his gaze to Arthur. “And what about you? Are you happy with this situation? You do realise the sorts of lies people will say about you?”

Arthur squares his shoulders and tries to chanel Tango!Arthur. “Yes, Father, I’m perfectly happy with this situation, and I don’t really care what people chose to say.” Lies, lies, of course he cares, but he’s really trying not to. “Merlin is a good teacher.”

“If he’s so good, why are you are practically at the bottom of the leaderboard?”

“Sixth. We’re sixth, out of twelve. That is hardly bottom.”

“And you think that is an acceptable result?”

“Yes?” He curses himself for making that sound like a question. What he should have said was that he thinks that is a bloody good result, and he will continue to think so even if they end up leaving the competition tonight. A month ago he’d never danced at all, now he’s just done a Waltz on national television without completely embarrass himself!

Merlin puts a hand on Arthur’s arm and Uther takes one look at it and sneers. He opens his mouth to say more when Mithian comes in with her eyes all red and puffy and practically throws herself into Arthur’s arms without seeming to see they were in the middle of something. “Oh god, Arthur, it was awful! I don’t think Cornelius will ever forgive me, I’ve let him down so badly.”

“Hey, come on, it wasn’t that bad.” Arthur puts a consoling arm around her. He looks up to see both his father and Merlin watching him, the former with a pleased smirk on his lips, the latter looking a little lost.

She sniffs a bit and rubs at her eyes. The make-up department are going to kill her.

“And who is this delightful young lady?” Uther’s voice has now taken on that oily tone that he seems to think women like. To be fair, Uther quite often does have a beautiful women on his arm, but Arthur can only uncharitably assume that has something to do with his father’s money.

“Oh, sorry, I’m Mithian.” She holds out her hand to shake his and attempts to smile like she doesn’t have mascara smudges all around her eyes. “I’m one of the presenters on _The One Show_.”

“Charmed.” Uther smiles and takes her hand, bringing it up to his lips.

“Oh!” Mithian steps back slightly and looks like she doesn’t know how to pull her hand away without offending Uther.

“Uther Pendragon, put her down at once, she is young enough to be your granddaughter.” Annis walks over, shaking her head.

“Annis? How long has it been? You haven’t changed a bit.”

Arthur grabs the opportunity to get away by taking Mithian over to get her make-up fixed. “I’m sorry about my father, he’s probably planning our wedding by now.”

She gives him a small frown. “Why would he be planning our wedding?”

Arthur shrugs. “Because you are female and he saw us talking, therefore we must surely be love's young dream,” he deadpans.

“But what about Merlin?”

He looks at her in surprise. “Mith, I thought you of all people would have grasped the fact that we are just dance partners.”

“Well yes, I know that, but come on, Arthur, I’ve seen the way you look at him. And the way he looks at you.”

He shakes his head. “No, that is just for the dance. It was the Waltz, we were supposed to be in love.”

She nods and is quiet for a moment. “Yes. But I meant the way he looks at you when you are not dancing. And you at him. You make a beautiful couple.”

He stares at her a moment. “I guess that is what my father is afraid of.”

They finish the walk to make-up in silence, but just as he leaves her at the door he can’t help asking, “Does he really look at me like that?”

She grins and kisses him on the cheek, then walks away without saying a word.

 

***

 

Mithian must have been wrong, of course, because when Arthur returns to the backstage area, Merlin is barely talking to him. 

Uther seems to be in some sort of heated debate with Cenred, and Arthur is glad he missed most of it. Merlin is chatting to Aglain and Mordred and only spares Arthur a cool glance when he comes over. 

Arthur sighs. He really should know better than to let himself get his hopes up, of course Merlin was only acting for the dance. He goes over to talk to Gwen and Elena instead until they are all called to go back out on the dance floor.

Once again they stand in position. Arthur is getting strangely used to this, yet at the same time he will never ever get used to this and it is one of the most horrible things he’s ever had to do, and yet he keeps subjecting himself to it once a week.

Even though he’s getting the feeling that Merlin is being a little off with him, he can’t help but grab Merlin’s hand as they start reading out the names of the couples who are through to next week. He hears Mithian’s name and is so busy giving her a small thumbs up that he almost doesn’t hear Gaius say “Arthur and Merlin”. He laughs and gives Merlin a quick hug without even thinking, before mouthing a thank you to the camera for all the people who must have voted for them.

There are still so many couples in the competition that they take a break before reading out the next group of names. Julius has once again been named in the bottom two, and once again Arthur rather uncharitably hopes he gets kicked out.

They have to go to chat to Vivian about getting through to Halloween week, which is apparently quite a big deal. 

“So, what dance are you doing next week?” Vivian asks.

Arthur looks to Merlin. He has a feeling he should probably know, but he hasn’t really been concentrating on anything except the Waltz. 

“Paso Doble.” Merlin has a big grin on his face. “Arthur will be able to spend the week posturing and looking grumpy, it’s perfect.”

“And can you tell us what you are dancing to?” 

Merlin glances over at the producer off stage to get the go ahead. “Thriller!” he says with a big grin as he turns back to Viv. “We’re doing a zombie Paso, it’s going to be a lot of fun.”

“And what about you, Arthur? Sofia says you never like the music, do you approve of this one?”

“Yes, I love it! Who doesn’t love Thriller?” This does sound like fun – it’s not slow and romantic and they get to dress as zombies and dance to a great tune, that sounds much more like something he can get behind!

Viv moves on to talk to Mithian about the Charleston. 

To Arthur’s absolute delight, the last names called to be in the Dance Off are Cenred and Morgause. He does feel a little guilty at wishing bad things on someone else, but he’d much rather the dance off be between the two people he doesn’t like rather than have one of his friends go through it – he’s been there, after all, and it’s not a nice feeling.

He finds he doesn’t actually care which of them goes, although he has to stop himself doing a happy dance when Julius finally gets his marching orders. In fact, no one seems particularly upset as they go over to offer condolences.

“What’s wrong?” Arthur whispers to Merlin when they get a spare moment. “Did my father say something?” 

“No. I can handle people like Uther. Thanks for abandoning me with him though.”

“Sorry, I thought you’d come with Mithian and me and by the time I realised you hadn’t I didn’t want to go back. Was he awful?”

Merlin shakes his head. “Annis had him under control. I didn’t know she knew your father.”

“Me neither. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to abandon you with them.”

Merlin nods. “It’s ok.” He still doesn’t look that happy.

“Arthur, are you coming?” Mithian calls from where she is standing with some of the others. They all tend to go to the bar on a Saturday night after the show to unwind. 

“Are you coming to the pub?” He asks Merlin.

Merlin shakes his head. “I might get off home, actually. Some of us don’t get Sundays off, we still have routines to choreograph.” 

It’s not something that usually seems to stop Merlin coming for a drink, but Arthur decides not to push it.

“Ok. I’ll see you on Monday then?”

Merlin nods and waves as Arthur goes to join Mithian, Elyan and Gwaine. Uther must have said something, there is no other explanation. Probably warned him off or something and Merlin doesn’t like to say. Arthur can only hope he won’t take Uther too seriously.


	23. Whisk

Watching Merlin stamp his feet really should not be this sexy. Well, to be fair, it’s not just the feet, it’s the whole way he holds himself as he demonstrates the basic steps for the Paso Doble – commanding, arrogant, in control. And damn it all but Arthur would submit to this version of Merlin in a heartbeat.

“Arthur, are you actually paying attention?” Merlin sounds a little peeved.

Arthur looks up, trying his best not to look guilty. “Yes?”

Merlin shakes his head. “Come on, Clotpole. If you were listening you’d have heard me say that focus is really important in this dance, so can we actually try it?”

“Yes, sorry, it’s just, um, a lot to take in.”

“Ok, well how about you get off your bum and come and do some work? What was the point of the warm up if you are just going to cool down again?”

Arthur sighs and clambers to his feet. “You told me to watch you do it, _Mer_ lin.” He’s been trying to get his head around the Paso since yesterday and doesn’t seem to be having much luck. It’s so different to the Waltz, no soft lines, no romance, this one is about being dramatic and commanding and he’s finding the change of pace jarring. 

The change in Merlin is a little jarring too, last week Arthur had been allowing himself to think there was maybe a chance of something between them, and now that he realises it was all part of the dance he feels a little silly, and very glad he hadn’t acted on all the times he’d wanted to kiss Merlin.

It’s not even that Merlin is being much different, he’s still helpful, still friendly, still smiling. There is just a distance between them that Arthur is sure was not there before, a certain cooling where before had been warmth. And it sounds stupid, even in his head, and he’s loathe to bandy about idiotic phrases like ‘Best Friend’ or even, god forbid, ‘Soul Mate’, but he’d honestly started to feel that way about Merlin, where even if he could only ever have him in his life on a platonic basis, he’d take that over life without Merlin. 

He’s never felt so close to someone before, let alone someone he’s really only just met and yet feels like he’s known forever, which is how he knows something is up, he’s done something, or his father said _something_ , and Merlin won’t say what. He has to believe that, he has to believe that Merlin wasn’t just putting on act for the sake of a dance. He wants that feeling of closeness back

To stop himself dwelling, he concentrates on the dance. He’s enjoying the Paso so far, but he’s finding it a lot harder than it looks. 

“Find the beat. No, on the beat! There is no point in just standing there stamping your feet. Again. Good. Dip the shoulder. Remember, you are the matador, I am the cape. Move your hips to the side.” Merlin demonstrates a neat little sashay. “Imagine you are stepping aside away from the bull. That’s it. Tight, controlled steps. Good.”

“So, when do we get to the zombie bits?” He’s been promised zombies all week, but it’s Wednesday, and so far Merlin has been working him hard on pure Paso without a hint of halloween in sight except the music.

“I told you, when you get the steps right. You are getting judged on your ability to dance the Paso Doble, not to walk about pretending to be a zombie.”

“But it’s important too, right? I mean, it’s part of the dance, we will be judged on it as a whole.”

Merlin nods, “Yes, but Ruadan and Kilgharrah are marking on the actual dance. Katrina wouldn’t give us a good mark if you suddenly turned into Gene Kelly, and Finna is generally nice, so it’s the other two we have to keep happy.” He looks at Arthur, who is giving his best pout, and lets out a loud, exaggerated sigh. “Fine, after lunch we introduce the zombies, ok? Before lunch, you show me you can get the footwork right. And remember, we might be zombies but we are slightly Flamencofied zombies who dance a good Paso, with a few Thriller moves thrown in for good measure.”

“I’m pretty sure Flamencofied is not a word,” Arthur says as he does the classic zombie pose, hands up to the side like he is in the Michael Jackson video.

Merlin laughs. “Dollophead.” And there it is, Merlin is smiling that proper smile with his whole face, and just like that the knot in Arthur’s chest loosens.


	24. Thriller Night – The Paso Doble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week Arthur and Merlin are dancing a Paso Doble to _Thriller_ by Michael Jackson.
> 
> <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sOnqjkJTMaA>
> 
> * * *

Arthur’s costume for Saturday night is AWESOME. 

They’ve made him up to look zombie-pale with dark shadows around his eyes like bruises and a deep gouge down one cheek. His eyes are smarting from both the very pale contact lenses they’ve given him and the eyeliner he’s finally succumbed to letting them put on him, but he can put up with it because his eyes are now so creepy and when he looks in the mirror he barely recognises himself.

But the best bit, the absolute best bit, is they have managed to get him a short red leather jacket, very like the one Michael Jackson wore in the Thriller video, and he is desperately hoping they will let him keep it because it is his absolute favourite thing he has ever worn.

The dress run this morning, although not dreadful, did not go well. However cool these contacts might look, they make his eyes feel funny and he’s not quite seeing things right. He’s determined to get used to them though.

“Don’t worry about it,” Merlin says, patting Arthur on the shoulder. “This is what the dress run is for, to work out all the little issues.” Easy for Merlin to say, he’s in costume but has yet to go through make up so his eyes are still dark blue and beautiful rather than oddly pale and burning.

“I don’t suppose you have time to go over it again somewhere quieter?” It always helps Arthur calm down before a show, a little time with just him and Merlin to reassure him that he hasn’t forgotten the routine.

Merlin shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I have to go and do the pro group dance, it’s always a massive one for halloween. You’ll be fine, you’ve been working really hard this week. Why don’t you go and find Mithian and relax for a bit.”

Arthur nods. He’s pretty sure Mith, Elena and Gwen are all still in make-up, but Elyan and Percy have both done their dress runs and should hopefully be in the green room. “Ok, I’ll see you later?” He hates himself for sounding unsure, of course he will see Merlin later, they are dancing tonight, but Merlin is still being a little distant, and Arthur isn’t sure how to handle it.

“Bloody hell, mate, give a man a heart attack why don’t you!” Elyan puts a hand over his heart in a dramatic gesture as Arthur walks into the green room. He sits up and peers at Arthur’s make-up. “That is one of the best zombies I’ve ever seen, kudos to the make-up team!”

Percy chuckles and shakes his head. “Remember when Elyan used to be all quiet and serious and news-readery? Honestly, this show makes everyone so melodramatic.”

“Says the guys sitting there dressed as a werewolf.” Arthur grabs a tea and goes to sit with them. 

Percy looks down at his outfit. “Pretty cool, huh? A quickstepping werewolf.” He shakes his head again. “I did a series a couple of years ago with grey wolves in Canada. I feel like I’m betraying them.”

“I saw your routine though, it looks pretty good to me. Creedence Clearwater, right?”

Percy nods. “ _Bad Moon Rising_ , yeah. I like the track.”

“Oh please,” Elyan cuts in. “We all have great tracks tonight, but I clearly win, _Superstition_ , you can’t beat that, come on!”

“Um, hello, _Thriller_.”

Elyan nods. “Yeah, like I said, great track. But Stevie Wonder!”

“Yes, but you have to do the dreaded Samba.” Arthur gives a mock shudder. 

Elyan shrugs. “I’m sort of enjoying the Samba. I mean, I know, if we are sticking with the theme of Superstition, that’s probably tempting fate, but I think it’s going ok.”

“Tell me how gorgeous and sexy I look!” Mithian walk in and poses by the doorway dressed as a skeleton with some very realistic make-up. “Come on, you all want to jump my bones, I know.”

“Absolutely beautiful, My Lady.” Elyan pulls out a chair for her between him and Arthur. “What are you dancing?” 

“Charleston. _Dem Bones_. Shut up all of you and stop laughing.” Mithian folds her arms and pretends to be cross with them but can only last a couple of seconds before she is laughing too. “Honestly, my dad said doing this show would teach me to be more ladylike, it’s not really working so far.”

“You don’t need to be more ladylike, you are perfect the way you are.” Elyan is clearly smitten! 

Everyone slowly trickles into the green room. The costumes are amazing, the production team have truly outdone themselves. Gwen is dressed as a ghost for her Cha Cha to _Dancing in the Moonlight_ and she looks absolutely beautiful, which Mithian deems as very unfair. Elena also looks stunning as a vampire for her Tango, right up until the moment she trips over her own feet. 

However, the point Arthur’s heart nearly stops when he catches sight of Zombie!Merlin for the first time. He is still dressed like your typical 80s zombie like he was for the dress run, but now he’s been through hair and make-up and he really does look otherworldly. His skin, already so pale no matter how much of the dreaded spray tan they fire at him, looks almost translucent against his dark hair. He’s wearing similar contact lenses to Arthur, making his usually expressive dark-blue eyes almost glow and it is only when he grins his trademark grin that Arthur is completely sure it is Merlin and not some undead creature that he would happily give his soul to.

“Stop staring like a goldfish.” Mithian leans over and whispers in his ear, giggling as she does.

Arthur drags his eyes away from Merlin. “I was not staring!” he whispers back.

He glances back at Merlin who has gone to sit between Gwaine and Gwen. Why is Merlin not sitting with him? Merlin should always be sitting with him. After a few days of running around pretending to be zombies, he’d thought things were getting back to normal with Merlin.

 

***

 

Merlin and Arthur are first up to dance this week and Arthur would really prefer that wasn’t the case. It’s the first time he’s opened the show since his disastrous first dance and he really doesn’t need a repeat of that.

“It’ll be fine,” Merlin says. “Going up first means you don’t have time to watch everyone else and get nervous. We just get it over and done with and can relax until the dance off.”

“You think we’ll be in the dance off?” 

Merlin sighs. “No, I didn’t say that. I think the dance is good, you’ve really got the hang of it this week.”

“You have to say that.” Arthur moves to run his hand through his hair, but it has been sprayed and glittered and coloured so much that his hand just connects with a solid lump that doesn’t feel like hair at all. 

“Seriously.” Merlin catches Arthur’s hand and stares at him with those weird zombie eyes. “You will be fine. I would say knock ‘em dead, but it seems a little cliché with the whole zombie theme.”

Arthur finds himself grinning. Merlin can be such a dork.

They move into position between the gravestones that have been set up for their dance. The dry ice machine starts up, letting out a low-lying fog over the dance floor. The famous beat from _Thriller_ begins and Arthur starts the routine.

Merlin, because he’s genuinely evil and not just for Halloween, has choreographed the routine so it starts with just Arthur by himself, moving his feet to the beat. He brings his hands up to clap and suddenly another zombie crawls out from behind the gravestones. Arthur him up into the dance. He got slightly confused at this bit as to whether he was a zombie or a matador, or maybe a zombie!matador, but either way, Merlin is his cape… He might slightly misstep in over thinking it, so he forgets the cape thing and concentrates on the routine and the zombies.

It’s easy now as he gets swept up in the dance, and he soon forgets that there is anyone else in the room but himself and Merlin and he finds he is grateful that Merlin had drummed the basics of the dance into him at the beginning of the week because now his feet know what to do so he can concentrate on the performance more.

By the end of the dance the audience and even some of the judges are on their feet clapping. 

Merlin is laughing. “That was brilliant, well done!” 

“I think I went slightly wrong in the middle.”

“My boys, that was fantastic, come on over!” Gaius has a big smile on his face, but Arthur has learnt not to trust his opinion because he is nice about every dance, no matter how good or bad it may be.

As they are first up, Katrina gets first comment. She doesn’t look happy, but if she did Arthur might suspect she was an impostor, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen her smile.

“That was very showy and eye catching, wasn’t it? Sadly, I’m not sure there was much actual Paso content, it seemed to be mostly just you pretending to be a zombie. I want to see nice flamenco arms in a Paso Doble, not some poor imitation of Michael Jackson. You went wrong part way through and you were out of time. It was stiff, it was stompy, it really was not good.”

To Arthur’s surprise, Merlin actually dares to answer her back. “There was plenty of Paso content in there, I think you’ll find! We concentrated on nothing but the Paso steps for the first three days. If it was stiff and stompy, that was down to the choreography, which is my fault, not Arthur’s. The zombie content had to be there, and flamenco arms would simply not have worked with this routine.”

“Well I call it as I see it, and this was not a good Paso Doble.” From the way she is glaring at Merlin, Arthur would say she now hates them even more than she did before, and perhaps Merlin has done them no favours.

“Well I completely disagree with Katrina,” Finna cuts in. “I thought the Paso content was good, your footwork was very clean, you lead the dance and above all you actually went out there and performed! That is the first time we have really seen you let go in a dance and give it your all without letting the nerves get to you. Yes, you went slightly wrong, but you corrected yourself and picked it up again nicely. There were a few places where it could have had a little more snap to it, and there were a few places where your old problem of your bottom sticking out crept in, but not nearly so much as in previous weeks. And furthermore, you both look fabulous. Very well done.”

Ruadan is nodding as he speaks. “What Paso there was was very well done. You clearly worked hard on getting the steps right, and I think it really showed. Your arms need to be a little more definite, and you did indeed go a little off beat, but as Finna says, the recovery was good and overall it was a very nice performance.”

“Splendid, splendid,” Kilgharrah says. “Very suitably creepy start to the show. I thought you got into character very well, but you didn’t let it over shadow the dance, I could still recognise it as a Paso Doble. Excellent choreography, Merlin, very well done.”

Feeling relieved, they run back up the stairs to get their results. Merlin is right, as much as he hated going first, they now can relax for a few hours till the results show.

The results come in with a predictable 6 from Katrina, but 8s from all the other judges, which gives them a total of thirty, their highest score yet!


	25. Paso Results

This evening has seen a complete shift about on the leaderboard. Gwen and Mordred are at the top with their Cha Cha Cha, and Gwaine and Freya are third, which is not that unusual for either couple because they are mostly in the top three, but Elyan and Helen’s Samba lands them second place, when they are usually around the middle, and Lance, who is usually near the top, is in 7th place. Arthur and Merlin actually make it to 5th place, just behind Percy and Kara, and to make it better, Leon and Morgana have dropped all the way down from first last week to 8th this week, meaning Arthur has actually beaten his sister for the first time ever!

Still, it doesn’t stop his heart pounding as usual when they go to stand under the lights to find out who is in the dance off. Their name doesn’t get called in the first round this time, but to his horror, Mithian and Cornelius are in the dance off! They’d come 6th on the leaderboard and their Charleston was really good. He doesn’t understand it, how can she be in the dance off? What if he is in the dance off too and he has to compete against his friend? 

Merlin squeezes his hand. “I’m sure she’ll be fine,” he whispers. “She did well, so unless she is up against someone else good, she should get through.”

Arthur nods and gives Merlin a quick smile. “Hopefully she’ll be up against Cenred and we can finally get rid of him!” he whispers back.

“Careful, microphones!” Merlin glances up to see if anyone might have heard. “You have to be careful what you say, Clotpole.”

“Oh, like you?”

They are pulled back from their bickering by Vivian clearing her throat and announcing it is time to see who else is through.

Arthur and Merlin’s names are second to be called, they are through to next week. To Arthur’s horror, however, the names called after theirs are Cenred and Morgause, leaving only Gwen, Lance and Leon with the possibility of the bottom two, which means one of his friends is definitely going to get kicked out this week. He knows this is how the competition works, but he is not ready to lose any of their little _Strictly_ family just yet. He finds himself clutching at Merlin’s hand again. Gwen is through, of course, she was top of the leaderboard. Leon is through too, which is good because however much Arthur might fight with Morgana, she is his sister and he doesn’t want her to go out just yet.

Which leaves Lance and Nimueh. Lance is really good usually, although he didn’t do so well this week with the Rumba coming in at 7th place, and has been top of the leaderboard a couple of times already. 

Arthur doesn’t know who to root for as they move off the dance floor so it can be prepared for the dance off. He really likes both Mithian and Lance and the competition will not be the same without either of them. He distracts himself by going over to hug Gwen, who is looking really worried at the thought of Lance getting kicked out.

“I’m sorry,” she says, sniffing. “It’s just as bad for you.”

“Hardly, I mean, I like Lance, but not as much as you do.” He tries to make light of it, which he probably shouldn’t do but feelings have never been his strong point.

Gwen lightly punches him on the arm. “You know what I mean.”

He’s not sure he does know what she means, but he lets it go as Lance and Nimueh move into position to dance their Rumba again. It is clear why Lance didn’t do so well this week, he clearly feels awkward with the dance and Arthur doesn’t blame him. The slow sensual Rumba looks like Arthur’s idea of hell.

He thinks Mithian’s Charleston goes better than Lance’s Rumba, it is fast and fun and he really can’t see how they ended up in the bottom two. 

Sure enough, the judges seem to agree and somehow Lance, one of the best contestants in the whole competition, is out of the show. It is somewhat sobering – if Lance can get kicked out, anyone can. And Arthur is really not ready to leave Merlin just yet.


	26. Cha Cha Cha Changes

So. It turns out the Paso was a fluke and Arthur has not got the hang of Latin dances At All.

The Cha Cha Cha is a whole new brand of evil he hadn’t even known existed. Legs should definitely bend when you walk, not be so unnaturally straight they practically bending backwards! And Arthur’s hips do not work the way the Cha Cha thinks they should. He’s practically longing for the return of the Samba.

To make matters worse, apparently this is not Merlin’s sort of dance either because rather than choreographing it himself as he has done for all their other dances, he has drafted in someone called Grunhilda – and there is nowhere that woman won’t put her hands. Personal space is no longer a thing and his body is just something to be poked and prodded and moved into unnatural positions like he’s the football version of Action Man.

With Lance going out of the competition last week, Arthur is very aware of the fact that his time left in _Strictly_ is short. He knows he’s not one of the best dancers and there is not a chance he will make it to the final, but he really just wants to stay dancing with Merlin for as long as possible.

Will he still get to see Merlin when they are not dancing together? Merlin has been weird with him ever since he met Uther, and Arthur still doesn’t know what was said to upset him. Perhaps he will only be too glad not to have to spend every waking hour with Arthur, when all Arthur wants is to spend every waking and non-waking hour with Merlin.

It is a blessed relief when they have to leave the training room, and Grunhilda, on Monday and go to the _It Takes Two_ studio.

The other couples on _It Takes Two_ tonight are Elyan and Helen and, of course, Lance and Nimueh as the couple leaving the show. Lance greets Arthur with a warm smile and a hug, and honestly Arthur has never had so many people spontaneously hug him as he has since joining _Strictly_. Elyan, on the other hand, seems a little cool with him, which is odd because they have been getting on really well up till now. It’s not that he expected a hug, but a bit more than a stiff nod might be nice. He glances over to see what Merlin makes of it, but Merlin is still being a little off with him too. He honestly doesn’t know what he keeps doing to upset people, if they could at least tell him he might be able to stop doing it, or at least defend himself.

“So, Arthur and Merlin, that was a fantastically spooky Paso you gave us on Saturday!” Mab says as their turn to be interviewed comes up. “And 30, your best score to date, are you happy? Do you think you can beat that this week?”

Arthur forces a laugh. “Yes, we were ecstatic with our thirty! Not sure we will be repeating it though, the Cha Cha Cha is really hard!”

“Arthur was brilliant on Saturday, he worked hard and it paid off. It’s only Monday, I’m sure he’ll have got the hang of the Cha Cha by the end of the week and we’ll be fine!”

“You must have been worried about the dance off though,” Mab says.

Arthur shrugs. “Well, everyone is always worried about being in the dance off, aren’t they? It’s not a nice place to be, no one wants to go home. Lance is a fabulous dancer, if he can be in the bottom two, anyone can.”

“Yes, but it must have been hard seeing your lady in the dance off?”

“My lady?”

“Mithian.” Mab says this like Arthur is being stupid. Well he must be because he has no idea what she is talking about.

“Well, obviously, it’s not nice seeing two of your friends in the dance off either – but it’s the nature of the competition. We are all pretty good friends by now, we don’t want to lose any of our number. It was horrible losing Lance, it would have been just as bad to lose Mithian – the rest of us lost either way.”

“But you must be relieved that Mithian didn’t leave?” Mab pushes.

“Well, of course, I’m glad she’s still in the competition. Like I said, I didn’t want either of them to leave.”

Mab seems frustrated with him, to be honest he’s feeling pretty frustrated himself – he’s clearly missing something here. “Well, I’m sure Mithian must be relieved then?”

“I dare say she is? I haven’t spoken to her since Saturday, but I guess she must be glad to have stayed, although being in the bottom two does make you feel pretty down.”

“You haven’t spoken to her since Saturday?” Mab repeats, looking surprised. “I do hope the two of you haven’t had a falling out! You make such a cute couple.”

“Couple?” He gives a startled laugh. “Mithian and I aren’t a couple. We’re friends, but nothing more than that. Why on earth would you think we were a couple?”

He feels Merlin shift beside him.

“Well,” Mab gives an awkward smile. “There have been rumours all over the internet for the last week, and then yesterday you posted those pictures of you two from Saturday night after the show.”

Arthur looks over at Merlin, completely flummoxed. “What pictures?”

“Are you saying you didn’t go out on Saturday?” Mab asks. “It was on your own personal Twitter account.”

“Everyone went out on Saturday, we usually do after a show. We were all there. And I don’t have a Twitter account.” Arthur learnt to stay away from social media a long time ago – there are aspects of your father’s life that no one should ever have to see.

“But it’s right here.” Mab turns to a screen where a tweet showing Arthur and Mithian dancing is displayed alongside the words ‘Love my girl, knew she would win the dance off’. “You see, it’s your Twitter account, the one you tweet on after every match, the one where you told everyone you were doing Strictly and tell us about your progress.” The name on the Twitter account is ‘TheREALArthurPendragon’, but Arthur has never seen it before in his life.

“You know, just because someone calls themself the real Arthur Pendragon, doesn’t actually mean they are the real Arthur Pendragon,” Merlin says.

Mab smiles, but her brow is a confused furrow. “But this has been Arthur’s Twitter for years. He has over a million followers. He’s been tweeting about the show the whole time.”

“This isn’t me,” Arthur reitterates. “I’m not on social media, I don’t know who it is that people are following, and I’m really sorry if people feel duped, but it’s not me. Mithian is my friend, nothing more.” 

“Right. Well, you heard it here first, Arthian is not a thing, sorry folks!” Mab is smiling brightly down the camera. “Let’s go and see what Iseldir has to say for this week’s Warm Up.”

Arthur gets off the set as fast as he can, determined to break his golden rule and google himself to see what exactly people have been saying. However, as he picks up his phone he is accosted by an annoyed-looking Elyan.

“Do you never answer your messages? We have all been trying to get hold of you since that picture went up last night, Mithian is really upset.”

“I haven’t had any messages.” Arthur unlocks his phone and shows Elyan for proof.

“Through WhatsApp? On our group chat? We can only get hold of you like that, it’s not like you actually gave any of us your phone number.”

Arthur shakes his head. “I haven’t downloaded WhatsApp, I avoid all social media – you would too if you’re father was Uther Pendragon. I saw far too many images of him that I never want to see, and I’ve been hassled far too much by the media and people who hate him. I had a Facebook account years ago which I deleted because I was getting trolled. I’ve never had a Twitter. I swear I didn’t post that tweet, Elyan, there is absolutely nothing going on between me and Mithian.”

“I know there isn’t! She told me and I believe her. I did wonder if this was some sort of publicity stunt on your part though, it’s exactly the sort of thing your father would do.”

A cold feeling washes down Arthur’s spine. Yes. This is exactly the sort of thing his father would do. Either him or Agravaine.

Elyan frowns. “What’s wrong?”

Arthur shrugs and shakes his head. “I um, I have to go and check something. Sorry.”

“Arthur?” Merlin calls after him, but he ignores him and keeps walking.

 

***

“Arthur, are you ok?” 

Arthur looks up from where he’s been staring at the REALArthurPendragon’s tweets on his phone. 

Merlin is standing by the door to the studio looking a little unsure. It’s strange how someone who moves with so much grace on the dance floor can look so awkward off it.

“I’m fine.” He puts the phone in his pocket. “I take it the show’s finished, can we go?”

Merlin nods. “I brought your jacket, you must be freezing.” He holds Arthur’s coat out to him and Arthur suddenly realises that yes, it is bloody cold out here.

He smiles and takes the coat, pulling his car keys out of the pocket. Once they are both in the car he finally decides he needs to tell Merlin what’s going on.

“It’s funny how the people you should be able to trust most can be the ones most likely to let you down. Or maybe that is just a peculiarity of my family, I don’t know.”

Merlin doesn’t answer but it is a comfortable silence that says he is waiting for Arthur to carry on.

“It was my father. And my uncle. Looks like they resurrected my old Facebook account on my laptop and took control of it. They’ve also set up Twitter and Instagram accounts in my name, and they’ve been posting stuff on my behalf for years. My uncle is my agent, he’s been using the media accounts for publicity, tweeting as me about games and stuff. But to make matters worse, it would appear I’ve been publicly endorsing my father’s political campaigns this whole time too.”

“Bloody hell. Sounds like you need a new agent.” Merlin takes hold of Arthur’s hand and rubs a gentle circle into his palm. It’s a calming technique he uses when Arthur is stressing about a dance, and weirdly it always seems to work. “I heard your father tell Annis that you’d been talking about seeing someone on your Twitter. So I looked. I must admit I was a little surprised at some of your political views, especially the anti same-sex marriage ones. I’m sorry, I guess I took it all a little personally.”

“Sounds like I need a whole new fucking family.” Arthur tiredly rubs at his eyes with his other hand, trying to stop any tears that might be threatening. “So many things suddenly makes sense. Things that people have said to me over the years, the way that everyone treats me like my father’s political views are my own. Morgana… Look. For the record, I did not date Mithian, or any models, I did not vote for fucking brexit, I do not support the Tory Party, and I am absolutely not against same-sex marriage, it was the only good thing David Cameron ever did. No wonder people seem to think I’m such an arsehole. And because so much ‘talking’ these days is done on social media, no one ever actually said anything to my face, they all thought they’d said it on Twitter, so I’ve been completely unaware of the whole thing!”

“Come on, let’s go and get a drink somewhere and forget about it.” Merlin’s hand feels warm and comforting in his and he never wants to let go but he has to, so he pulls his hand away.

“If you don’t mind, I think I’d rather just go home and catch up on the new series of Dr Who or something. I think if we go to the pub we’ll just get harassed by people.” Arthur turns the key in the ignition before taking a chance. “You can come too, if you want? We could order a pizza. I mean, I need to get hold of Mithian and explain, I don’t have her number so I guess I’ll have to use that WhatsApp thing, but after that?”

Merlin grins and nods. “Only if you stop at Tesco and I’ll run in and get some wine, I think you could do with it.”

Everything suddenly seems easier, like Merlin talking to him lifts the weight off him a bit. With Merlin on his side, he can conquer anything.


	27. The Cha Cha Cha – That ain't the way to have fun…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week Arthur and Merlin are dancing the Cha Cha Cha to _Mama Told Me Not To Come_. It has been covered by various people, but Merlin would like you to listen to the most Welsh version by Tom Jones and the Stereophonics:
> 
> <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TwL6SjjupbU>
> 
> * * *

It would be nice to be able to blame everything on having a shitty week, but at the end of the day Arthur knows he still can’t dance the Cha Cha Cha because he just can’t dance the Cha Cha Cha, and even if he’d had the best week ever, he would still be bad at this. 

Merlin has been working so hard to try and get Arthur’s brain and body to understand what he has to do, but Arthur is not convinced it has worked. He has memorised the steps, and he has tried like hell to do them the way Merlin does, but nothing seems to make what Arthur does look anything other than stiff and awkward as opposed to fluid and fun. When he tries to walk with straight legs, he looks like he is trying to walk with both legs in plaster, and Grunhilda was very happy to tell him that his attempts at a basic triple step made him look like a little boy who wants the toilet. And lastly, the hip movement. He can just about do that if he is standing still, but how the hell is he supposed to move his hips in a figure of eight whilst moving his feet and keeping his legs straight? How?

He can’t help feeling this is it – this is the week he goes home. This is the week he leaves Merlin.

He’s been plagued by the press ever since Monday, waiting outside his flat – ‘tell us your side of the story, Arthur’, ‘do you know who’s behind the Twitter account?’, ‘Are you going to sue?’ ‘Is there anything between you and Mithian?’

He’s ignored everything. He no longer has a manager to deal with any of this, he told Agravaine where to go in no uncertain terms. He switched his mobile off some time on Tuesday afternoon and hasn’t switch it back on since and unplugged the landline. He secretly moved out of his flat on thursday night and is now sleeping in the spare room of Pelinor, one of his team mates. 

So basically, he’s thrown himself into the Cha Cha Cha at every waking moment to distract himself from everything else in his life. The words ‘side, side, cha cha cha’ seem to be imprinted on his brain. ‘Side, side, rock, side, side, rock, forward cha cha cha’. If nothing else, he will get the steps right – hopefully. Centre the weight on the balls of the feet, rotate the hips, cha cha fucking cha. He won’t be sorry to never have to do this dance again, he will be sorry to never dance with Merlin again.

He barely even bats an eyelid when the costume department put him in a bright pink shirt open the whole way down at the front. He’s been paying enough attention to know that this is a last ditch attempt to win audience votes – if a male celebrity is doing badly in a dance they show off their body, either that or they bring out their cute kids. Gwaine is not bad at any of the dances but he is usually quite happy to dance with his shirt open. This is the first time Arthur has been so exposed, but he feels more exposed in other ways this week so this is far from high on his list of concerns. It’s a waste of time anyway – Percy is doing the Paso this week in just a waistcoat – and trousers, obviously, this the BBC not Channel 4 – but no shirt. He doesn’t even need to, he has cute kids to persuade the public to vote, he could at least let Arthur have the shirt thing.

He’s maybe feeling a little more positive after the dress rehearsal when he makes it through the routine without getting a single step wrong. Everything is shot to hell, however, when he hears a familiar clearing of a throat when he goes backstage.

He has avoided talking to his father since Monday – switching off all phones helped a lot with that plan. Uther, however, has perhaps been characteristically persistent – you don’t ignore Uther Pendragon. He has been calling the production team every day and insisting they allow him to talk to Arthur. A PR executive named George has been fielding the calls, and has told Arthur in no uncertain terms that he will not allow any unwanted calls to get through.

But now, somehow, Uther is here, accompanied by two bodyguards who look like they definitely know where the bodies are buried. 

“Arthur, might I have a word.” It is not a question, it never is with Uther. He issues commands and everyone else jumps to obey. He’s not even supposed to be here.

Arthur follows his father down to an room containing a few mixing boards and other pieces of equipment but no people. 

“Arthur, it really is about time you stopped with this childish behaviour,” Uther says as the door closes.

“Childish behaviour?”

“Yes, all this refusing to take my calls nonsense. I really do expect better of you by this age, Arthur.”

“Better of me? _You_ expect better of _me_?” Arthur should be used to his father by now, but he really can’t believe he is hearing this. “I am not the one who abused the other’s trust for the last, what is it, five years, six? I would never pretend to be you to get my own agenda across to innocent people!”

“I understand that you are not happy with my actions, Arthur, but this ignoring me is really childish. Talk to me like an adult.”

“I’m not being childish, I’m not ignoring you, I simply have absolutely nothing to say to you. As far as I can see, my life is a much better place without you in it. Good day, Father.”

Arthur turns to leave the room but is stopped once again by his father.

“Everything I have ever done has been for you, you selfish brat.” Uther’s tone is low, always a danger sign. He rarely shouts, he views it as a sign of losing control, and he doesn’t do that. When he’s angry his voice just gets really low, and that’s when he gets spiteful.

The door opens behind him and he hears Morgana saying, “Arthur?”

He ignores her in favour of replying to Uther. “Everything you’ve ever done has been for you and only you.”

“Arthur, please, stop!” Morgana says, grabbing his arm.

“How dare you. I have worked to give you everything you ever wanted. Do you really think those talent scouts would have gone to your football matches if I hadn’t paid them? Do you think they’d have given you a chance if I hadn’t paid them? I paid for your training, I gave sponsorship money to every club you ever played at. Without me you’d have been nothing, boy, nothing! I even kept your little perversion out of the press. Those social media accounts you hate so much, they kept you in girlfriends for years so no one would ever know you are nothing but a filthy little pervert – and they still wouldn’t if you had just gone on _I’m A Celebrity_ like you were supposed to!”

Morgana, meanwhile has walked over to one of the mixing desks and seems to be randomly hitting buttons.

“No, he needs to be told!” He turns back to his father. “I never asked you to! I am good at what I do, I would have succeeded without you, I do not need you to interfere!”

“Arthur!” Merlin’s voice calls from the other side of the door. “Stop talking!”

“Merlin, get in here and help me switch it off! There are too many buttons on this thing!” Morgana calls.

“Of course you need me, you stupid boy, how easy do you think your life would have been as a gay footballer? I made all that go away for you!”

Merlin and Mithian burst into the room and run over to the sound desk. Mithian, an experienced broadcaster, hits a button and a red light Arthur hadn’t noticed suddenly goes out.

“Arthur this is the sound booth where they do the voice overs,” Morgana says. “I’ve been trying to tell you….”

Arthur looks at her worried face, and then behind her to Merlin and Mithian who nod. 

“I’m sorry, Arthur, we couldn’t get past your father’s people,” Mithian says. “They let Morgana through, but no one else

Uther snorts behind him. “You see? You see what happens when you try to cut me out?”

Arthur stares at his father. He is really trying blame Arthur for all this?

“Leave him alone, Uther,” Morgana says. She’s always been the only person who could stand up to him. “You’ve done nothing but control him his entire life, none of this would have even happened if you hadn’t interfered. He’s better off without you.” She grabs hold of Arthur’s arm to pull him out of the room.

Arthur stops at the door and looks back at Uther. “She’s right. I have spent my whole life trying to please you and make you happy and it has never ever worked. I was always so worried about letting you down, about that constant threat that you’d disown me, but you know what? You’re the one who let _me_ down. I’m disowning _you_.”

Arthur is very aware of the pitying looks directed at him as Morgana practically frogmarches him down the corridor. Gwen offers a tentative smile, Elyan and Leon pat him on the shoulder. They heard everything, they know everything. 

Is that really such a bad thing? Does he even care?

Morgana drags him into the green room and puts a cup of strong black coffee down in front of him. “Sorry, can’t make it Irish, not before a show.”

Arthur forces a laugh. “Show must go on.”

“’Fraid so, it’s what you signed up for. Look, Arthur, I guess I owe you an apology. I really did think it was you writing all that crap. Not to mention dating all those women when I knew for a fact you weren’t into that. I know I probably should have had more faith in you, but you have to understand that from where I was sitting you were just turning into a right little Daddy’s boy, a mini Uther.”

Arthur looks down at his hand curled around the coffee cup, the heat almost burning him. “And yet you forgave him,” he says at last. “You and him were always thick as thieves.”

She shrugs and looks a little chastened. “I guess I respect him a little for having the courage of his convictions. I might not agree with most of what he says, but at least he means every word. You….” She shrugs again and shakes her head. “What comes out of your mouth and what you actually do are such different things. You disagree with Uther, but today was the first time I ever heard you say it to his face. And then all the Facebook and Twitter stuff, and the fact that you’d rather be alone in the closet than actually live your life… I’m sorry, Arthur, but that’s just not me.”

He nods. “I get that. And you’re right, I have let him control me for too long. The only reason I ever signed up for this show is because Father and Agravaine want me to be the next Gary Lineker – on every TV show, every advert. Or even worse, David Beckham and model underwear. That’s not what I want.”

“What do you want?”

“I’m not sure. But I’ll figure it out.” He laughs. “If you’ve seen the state of my Cha Cha, you’ll know I have until the end of the night to work out what I want to do with the rest of my life.”

She squeezes his hand, the one that’s not holding the coffee cup. “You’ll do alright, Arthur.”

“Is it safe to come in?” Merlin sticks his head around the door. “Only the rest of us are starving and dying for a cuppa and we’re all a little afraid of Morgana.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know I’m a pussy cat.”

“She is” Arthur nods solemnly. “A sabre tooth.”

The others filter into the green room, some of them stopping to give Arthur a quick pat on the shoulder before they take their seats. To his relief, they completely avoid the topic of Uther or anything that was said in the sound booth, instead talking about their up and coming dances or their kids or anything else that doesn’t involve Arthur. Mithian takes the seat next to him and loops her arm through his with a smile. It’s a relief, he was worried she wouldn’t forgive him for the way Uther used her.

Of course, the peaceful little bubble can’t last and it is burst when Cenred walks into the room.

“Well well, if it isn’t Pendragon Junior. You’ve certainly made sure to keep your name in the papers this week, haven’t you? Is that what the little publicity stunt earlier was for? You can’t dance so you make the public feel sorry for you?”

“Don’t judge other people by your own standards, Cenred,” Morgana says. “Just because you’ve been trying to play the lovable buffoon card so that people will vote for comedic value rather than you actually learning to dance, doesn’t mean everyone plays those games.”

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?” Cenred draws himself up to his full height and manages to look highly affonted.

“It means once a politician always a politician. You might be fooling the public, but you don’t fool the people in this room. Just because you and Uther are from rival parties, doesn’t mean you aren’t both exactly the same.”

“How dare you! I am nothing like that Tory bigot!”

“No, you are a Labour bigot, it’s just semantics. It doesn’t matter anyway, your time is up. Tonight is the night you get voted off.” Morgana throws her hair over her shoulder and smirks.

Cenred sneers at her. “Your little witchy jinx tricks won’t work with me. You tried it couple of weeks ago and look, I’m still here. Go and play your mind games on someone else.”

Morgana laughs. “I’m not jinxing you, you ridiculous man! I don’t decide who I want to go out and then magically make it happen; if I could do that I would win every series. I simply watch the dress rehearsals and make some fairly accurate predictions about who is worst. And this week, that is you.”

Even under all the layers of spray tan and make-up, Cenred’s face goes a funny puce colour. “How dare you. I will get you sacked, you professional dancers are supposed to encourage us celebrities, not put us down just to help your pansy brother.”

“What did you say?” Merlin’s voice cuts through everything else like a shard of ice. 

Cenred takes one look at him and tries to back track. “It was just a joke.” He gives a high-pitched giggle. “No need for everyone to take things so seriously.”

To be fair to Cenred – which is not something Arthur likes to do – Merlin does actually look and sound quite scary at the moment. His face is stern, his eyes blazing, his voice deep. And Arthur really shouldn’t, but he finds it sexy as hell.

“A joke? Since when is derogatory language a joke?”

“I…” Cenred gives that nervous laugh again.

“No, go on, please tell me. Are there any other names you’d like to share with the group? What do you want to call me? Or how about Percy here, would you like to have a joke with him?”

Percy says nothing, but he does subtly flex his muscles, made more obvious by his lack of shirt, and Cenred takes a step back towards the door.

At that moment, Gwaine walks into the room and Cenred back straight into him. One look at the grin on Gwaine’s face and Cenred mumbles hurried excuses and legs it out of the room.

“So, what did I miss?” Gwaine asks.

 

***

 

With the best will in the world, Arthur’s head is not in the right place to do this dance tonight. Between his father, Cenred and the sudden nervousness that hit him when he saw the audience, he feels like everything he learnt has gone out of his head. Perhaps hiding from the press and the public all week was not such a good idea, because now he feels like they are all staring at him.

And of course they are all staring at him, but mostly likely it has more to do with how very badly he is buggering up this dance than the whole stupid Twitter thing, and rumours from his father’s little tirade this morning probably haven’t made it any further than those that heard yet, and hopefully there is only one person who would spread those rumours further – Cenred.

Arthur is still not sure if he even cares if the rumours spread. It feels like he is breaking away from his father’s control at long last, and if coming out is part of that then so be it. Perhaps he should just come out before Cenred can spread rumours.

The problem is, all these thoughts have no business running around in his head when he is supposed to be dancing the Cha Cha Cha.

His feet are practically working on autopilot and he is glad for all those hours they spent training so he is hopefully at least getting the steps right, but even so, Merlin keeps having to pull him in the right direction and is muttering instructions under his breath.

He’s letting Merlin down here, big time. He needs to concentrate. This might be the longest one and a half minutes of his life.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers to Merlin as the music finally finishes. 

“You did fine.” Merlin squeezes his arm as he pulls him over to face the judges.

Kilgharrah is up first, and he doesn’t look happy. “I know you have had a hard week, young Pendragon, but this was such a step back from last week. It was almost like watching Arthur from Week 1 rather than the Arthur who gave us that confident performance in the Paso Doble. You need to learn to put outside concerns aside and concentrate on the performance. It wasn’t a complete disaster, you obviously worked hard on the steps this week, you did have some hip action in there. The Cha Cha Cha is a hard dance, but the competition is hotting up, I hope it was enough to keep you here.”

Katrina is next, and Arthur could swear she almost looks gleeful to be able to tell him how badly he did. “Well, Merlin really was pushing you around that dance floor, wasn’t he? You did attempt the steps, you did _mostly_ keep on the balls of your feet. I disagree with Kilgharrah, if your hips were doing anything I was unaware of it. Your legs were bent when they should be straight and straight when they should be bent. But your arms were not really doing anything and there was absolutely no performance value at all, and all in all it was rather a disaster.”

“Oh dear,” Finna says. “I really don’t think this is your dance, Arthur. You have been doing so much better lately! I agree, I could see that you have been practising hard, you did make an effort with the steps, but I’m sorry, I have to agree with Katrina about the straight legs. I just don’t think your head was in the game this week.”

Ruadan says almost the same thing – footwork was ok, everything else was terrible. He’s not sure they will make it through.

The results when they come in reflect pretty well what the judges had said. Katrina gives them 3, which is pretty awful for this stage of the competition. Even Finna only gives them 6. Ruadan gives 4 and Kilgharrah 5, giving the grand score of 18. It’s still a lot better than the scores he received when he was dancing with Sofia, and it is a lot better than he deserves, but it is still a whole twelve points lower than last week.

He’s trying not to be negative about it, but as he stands there watching Annis and Aglain dance an American Smooth, the only thought going through his head is ‘this is it, this is the week I go home, this is the last time I dance with Merlin.’ How will he cope next week, knowing that all this is going on and he is not part of it? Not spending every free hour with Merlin learning to dance? It has been so intensive, and Merlin has become such a major part of his life and now it’s all about to end.

He feels someone squeeze his hand and looks over. Merlin is smiling at him. “Stop thinking so loud.”

“I’m so sorry, Merlin. I’m sorry I messed it all up.”

Merlin squeezes his hand again. “It’s fine. If we are in the dance off we will do it again and we will get through?”

“And if we don’t?” 

“Then I will just have to come around to your flat and we’ll annoy the neighbours by learning to dance there.”


	28. Cha Cha Cha Results

It comes as no surprise to Arthur at all when their names are the first to be called for the dance off.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers to Merlin as the red light shines over them.

Merlin keeps his face completely straight as he says, without moving his lips, “If you keep saying that, Clotpole, I’m going to push you over on national television.”

Vivian calls them over to stand in front of the judges desk. “I’m so sorry, how are you feeling, you must be devastated!” 

Arthur shakes his head. “It’s only fair really, we were second from the bottom on the leaderboard, we should be in the dance off. We expected it.”

Vivian looks a little nonplussed, like the concept of someone thinking the deserve to be in the dance off is completely alien to her. Arthur believes in what he said though – why should one of his friends be in the dance off instead of him when he did a worse dance than they did?

The judges all give him advice about keeping his legs straight, staying on the balls of his feet and wiggling his hips. He nods and tries to look like he’s taking it in. Merlin’s already been over all this at least a million times this week and again before they started filming the results show. All Arthur can do is hope something sticks and he gets through. Or even better, hope that his opponent will be Cenred as Morgana predicted so he at least stands a hope in hell.

“It’s ok.” Merlin tries his best to look optimistic as they wait in the wings for the second couple in the dance off to be announced. “It’ll be ok, you’ll see. I know you can do it better than you did earlier, you’ve been doing better all week. It’ll be fine.”

Arthur is not sure which of them Merlin is trying to reassure, but it’s not really working.

The rest of the couples are lined up. Arthur and Merlin off stage give a little cheer every time their friends get through. Finally only Elena, Percy and Cenred are left standing. 

It could be any of them. Cenred and Morgause were bottom of the leaderboard, but for some strange reason the public seem to like him and they’ve only been in the dance off once. Elena and Tauren did the dreaded Rumba and were only one point ahead of Arthur and Merlin. Percy and Kara’s Paso landed them in 7th place because the judges had pulled them up on technicalities, but it had looked pretty good to Arthur and probably would to the audience at home, particularly with Percy’s guns on display like that.

Percy is next through and safe. Now they do the horrible drawn out pause before announcing who is in the dance off.

It is a good job no one can see Merlin and Arthur punch the air when Cenred’s name is read out. He deserves to be in the bottom two, and not just because Arthur seriously dislikes him, but because he is nearly always bottom of the leaderboard. 

Also, Arthur is still bad at the Cha Cha Cha, and he stands a much better chance against Cenred’s dreadful Samba than against any of the others.

Cenred and Morgause go first, even though Arthur and Merlin have been waiting for what feels like an eternity. 

Arthur is sure he feels more focused now than he did earlier. He’s had a little time to process what happened with Uther and although he’s not over it, he can at least put it to the back of his mind till tomorrow. What is important right now is staying in the competition so he can keep on dancing with Merlin.

Cenred’s Samba does looks a little better than it did earlier, at least to Arthur’s uneducated eye, but it still does not look great. It’s probably better than Arthur’s own Samba had been what feels like a lifetime ago, but the question is, is it better than Arthur’s Cha Cha? It’s time to find out.

“Will you have whisky with your water, or sugar with your tea?” the singer begins.

Stay on the balls of your feet, cha cha cha, move your hips, cha cha cha, legs straight, cha cha cha. 

“Mama told me not to come….”

What would Arthur’s mother have said about any of this were she still here? 

Can he make her proud of him?

Can he make Merlin proud of him?

Merlin is smiling as the dance ends. He nods at Arthur and mouths ‘much better’.

They go over and stand on their spot as the judges get ready to deliver the verdict.

Katrina doesn’t vote for them, of course.

Finna does. One vote each.

Ruadan tells them both dances improved but neither were great. He’s going with the couple who improved the most. 

He votes for Arthur and Merlin.

It’s all down to Kilgharrah now. 

Arthur doesn’t know when he gripped hold of Merlin’s hand, but there is no way on earth he can let go now, he doesn’t care that the whole country can see, and Merlin is gripping back just as tight.

“I’m saving Arthur and Merlin.”

Arthur breathes a sigh of relief but makes sure to keep his celebrations moderate till they are off camera so it doesn’t look like he’s gloating over Cenred.

The remaining couples do the usual patting Cenred and Morgause on the shoulder, but for the first time not a single person looks particularly sorry to see the departing couple go and far more people are clapping Arthur and Merlin on the back in congratulations. No doubt the papers will pick up on it but right now Arthur doesn’t care. 

He gets to spend another week with Merlin.


	29. A small tantrum

“No.” Arthur folds his arms and sticks his chin out. “I’m not doing it.”

“Arthur, you have to.” Merlin throws his hands up in exasperation. “You signed a contract, remember? What, did you think they’d grant you special dispensation to not dance the Rumba just because you don’t want to?”

“Why can’t we do one of the fun dances? Everyone else seems to do the Jive or the Charleston, can’t we at least do those first? You know, before I get kicked out.”

“I doubt you’ll find the Jive as much fun as you seem to think it is, it’s very fast and very strenuous and you already have a knee injury.”

“Are you having a dig about my level of fitness again? I can keep up with you any day.”

“No, Arthur, I’m just saying stop all your preconceived ideas about the dances, you never know till you actually try. And I don’t choose the order we do the dances in, we do what we are told – we are doing the Rumba, get used to it. Anyway, it’s good to get it out of the way now. No one wants to be lumbered with the Rumba near to the final.”

“Yeah, right, like we’re getting to the final,” Arthur scoffs.

The Rumba. This is the dance that Arthur has watched other couples do and hoped he would be kicked out of the competition before he had to try it. Because of being so slow, it’s the dance where every little mistake is picked up on by the judges and scrutinized, but he won’t lie, that’s not really the problem, he can take criticism, he grew up with Uther there to make sure of it.

Lance went out of the competition the week he had to do the Rumba, and Lance is a much better dancer than Arthur.

Elena and Mithain had both hated it. Morgana and Leon had come fourth, which Morgana considered a bad score even though everyone else would be happy to come forth.

The real problem is that it is sexy and romantic – things that Arthur wants to avoid. Morgana likes to call him repressed and she has always told Arthur he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body. Well, maybe she has a point, but why should he be made to feel in the wrong for not being an extrovert like her? Putting his feelings out there is honestly like a form of torture. And ok, so he should never have signed up for this, but that is just not helpful, ok?

To make matters worse, as Merlin tries to show him the steps, Arthur discovers that the Rumba is very similar to the Cha Cha bloody Cha only slowed down. He still has to attempt the straight leg thing and the hip movement – neither of which he ever really mastered – and now he has to do it all whilst gazing adoringly at Merlin, and he actually does want to gaze adoringly at Merlin, but not out on stage where anyone can see him!

He. Can. NOT. Do. This.

Somehow, when all this is finished (which could well be next week), he has to go back to the world of football where they will rip the piss out of him forever for doing Strictly in the first place – they already are, he’s been ignoring them – and those are just the ones he would call friends, let alone the sort of texts he gets from the likes of Valiant. If he goes out there and does some lovey dovey dance to a Cindy Lauper track, he will never be able to show his face at Highbury again. He might have to take that offer to go and play for some middle of nowhere US team where they’ve never heard of him.

Seriously. Cindy Lauper. This might be worse than Brittany Spears and that sodding Twilight song put together. At least it’s not _Girls Just Wanna Have Fun_.

Merlin, of course, is a sneaky blackmailer. “Look, you know next week is Blackpool, right?”

Arthur nods. Even he couldn’t miss the fact that next weekend the show will be filmed in the Blackpool Tower Ballroom, the home of ballroom dancing, everyone on the show has been going on about it non stop. Apparently Blackpool is the next milestone. Everyone wants to make it to Halloween, then everyone wants to make it to Blackpool, then everyone wants to make it to the final. Arthur’s amazed he even made it to week three, so he’ll just take what he can get.

“Do you know that I have never still been in the competition by Blackpool?” Merlin says. “I want to go, Arthur. I want to dance on _Strictly_ in the Tower Ballroom, do you understand me? This is like a major goal for someone who grew up in the world of ballroom dancing. So you will stop feeling sorry for yourself, you will get off your ample arse, you will learn the sodding Rumba, and you will get me to Blackpool!”

“I…” What exactly can he answer to that? Of course he doesn’t want to let Merlin down. No one ever wants to let Merlin down, everyone loves him. Grannies have stopped Arthur in the street and told him he’d ‘better not hurt that lovely boy’.

“How about we make it a platonic Rumba,” Merlin tries. 

“Is there such a thing?”

Merlin shrugs. “Not according to Katrina, but she’ll give us a crap score anyway so who cares what she thinks? ‘If you’re lost you can look and you will find me’, what’s that if not friendship as well as love? Someone who will always be there for you when you need them.”

Arthur wants Merlin to always be there for him, he wants to always be there for Merlin, he’s just not entirely sure he wants it to be platonic. 

Merlin must misread something in Arthur’s face because he sighs. “Look, at the end of the day, it’s just acting, same as the Waltz, or even the Paso – it doesn’t have to real anymore than we were really Zombies at Halloween.”

Maybe his emotions are still messed up from last week, or maybe he’s just a contrary bastard, but he doesn’t want to pretend to be Merlin’s friend, and he doesn’t want to pretend to be in love with him either. He doesn’t want to pretend at all. How can he act out being in love with Merlin like it doesn’t matter and it doesn’t mean anything? 

It does fucking matter. 

And it means everything.


	30. Chelsea Pensioners

It is nice to get out of the training room for a while – Merlin has been working him hard this week in the hope of at least drumming the technique into him. Not that they spend every waking moment there – they still go running every morning before training, they still visit their café for lunch and a couple of nights ago Merlin had forced Arthur to watch _Strictly Ballroom_ , because apparently it was a terrible thing that he had never seen it. Arthur possibly didn’t hate the movie as much as he told Merlin he did.

Today they are at The Royal Hospital Chelsea, dancing with the Chelsea Pensioners in aid of the Royal British Legion’s Poppy Appeal for Armistice Day, and Arthur is rather enjoying himself. Gwen and Mordred, Percy and Kara, Elyan and Helen and Mithian and Cornelius are also here, and they are dancing with veterans both young and old. It’s reminding Arthur that dancing is supposed to be fun, and there are far more important things in life than the little things he’s been letting eat away at him lately. 

He’s attempting to Waltz with a lady old enough to be his grandmother, or possibly his great grandmother. She is a far better dancer than he is and keeps giving him pointers. “You remind me of my husband, he was an Arthur too. He was a beautiful dancer,” she tells him. “We all voted for you in our place. Well, apart from Gladys, she likes that Gwaine, but he’s far too cocky for my liking. That Elyan over there is fine looking lad as well, mind you. I wouldn’t kick him out of bed for leaving crumbs.”

Arthur nearly trips over his own feet. For some reason he just hadn’t expected a sweet little old lady to say something like that.

“Don’t worry.” She pats his arm and then nods over to where Merlin is dancing with a man in a wheelchair. “You and your lovely boy are still my favourites. It’s nice how people are free to love whoever they choose these days.”

“We’re just dancing together, Mrs Watson.” Arthur is pretty sure he is blushing.

“My eyes may be old, but they still see what they see. Don’t be a silly boy and throw away what is right in front of you. And I thought I told you to call me Elsie?”

Once again Arthur realises, from all the people here, that everyone loves Merlin. Most of them seem to think of him as their long-lost grandson and Arthur has lost track of the number of people telling him they are counting on him to get Merlin to the final, not the other way around. 

Arthur is dubious about their chances of getting to Blackpool, let alone the final but he smiles and nods like there is a hope in hell. He’s not fooled by Elsie’s sweet little old lady façade – most of these Chelsea Pensioners probably could and would kill him with one well-aimed blow if they thought he was going to let Merlin down.


	31. The Rumba

For all the dancing Arthur has seen Merlin do, for all the dancing Arthur has done with Merlin, he hadn’t realised till this moment that he’s never _really_ seen Merlin dance before. Not properly. 

As part of the Remembrance Sunday show, Alfie Boe will be singing _The White Cliffs of Dover_ and rather than a whole group of dancers, it’s just Merlin and Freya dancing a Waltz. Arthur is watching them rehearse now, and it’s beautiful – such a far cry from anything Merlin’s ever danced with Arthur.

And this might sound stupid, but Arthur honestly hadn’t realised until now just how good Merlin actually is. In the usual group numbers, Merlin often plays the comic relief, but here, in proper white tie and tails with a dancer who complements him perfectly, Merlin is poetry itself. He moves across the floor like he is floating, moving in perfect synchronicity with Freya, like they are one being rather than two. They are perfect together, and when they move closer and he sees the way Merlin looks at Freya, something small and cold stabs at Arthur’s heart. 

“He’s good, isn’t he?” Gwen comes to sit down next to Arthur.

Arthur nods, unable to take his eyes off the rehearsal in front of him. “I had no idea.”

Gwen makes a ‘hmm’ noise. “They’re ballroom champions, of course, I mean, I knew that, but actually seeing them dance together again is really something special.”

Arthur does look at her now. “Merlin?” He feels instantly guilty for doubting her now, he more than anyone should know how good Merlin is. He’s suddenly very aware that everything up till now has been all about him and he probably should make the effort to get to know Merlin better. He looks back at the dancers. “I thought Sofia was his pro partner? I mean, when she doesn’t have a sprained ankle.”

“Oh no, that’s only for the show. It’s always been Merlin and Freya. There was some sort of bust up, I don’t know the details but it had to do with someone cheating, so now Mordred dances with Freya and Merlin dances with Sofia. But really, Merlin and Freya are just so beautiful together.”

Arthur nods. 

So beautiful.

Merlin would never have cheated, the idea is ludicrous. And they still look so in love, they should be dancing together all the time. Arthur feels like an intruder just watching them. So many times lately, he’s entertained the idea of Merlin being his. He’s even come close to believing Merlin felt the same way this week whilst they have been dancing the Rumba. But Merlin is not his. Merlin is clearly Freya’s.

 

***

 

Arthur knows that somewhere along the line, this is all just dancing, but he’s lost track of what is what. Is he pretending to be in love with Merlin, or is he really in love with him? Is Merlin pretending to be in love with him, or is there a glimmer of truth? Is Merlin pretending to be in love with Freya or are they really a couple? Does everyone else know what is real and what is pretend and they are all laughing at Arthur, this poor smitten fool following Merlin around 

Merlin is smiling at him as they wait for their names to be announced as the next to perform. And that smile… it does funny things to Arthur’s insides. Up until now, he’s liked that feeling, a low buzz deep down in his belly, an anticipation for something so so good. But now? Now those feelings seem dirty, forbidden. They must be locked down, hidden away, never thought of again. His Father is right, Arthur is perverted, twisted, wrong, wrong, wrong. 

Confused is not a good headspace to be in when you are supposed to be showing your romantic side with the person you are confused about. Especially not when you are fighting to stay in the competition. This is now two weeks running where he just cannot get his head in the right place.

The training Merlin put him through seems to be working, at least a bit. His feet seem to know where to go, his legs know how to move, but he can’t seem to engage with the dance. How can he flirt with Merlin and be sexy with Merlin out here for the whole world to see? He thought he could, but he can’t. He thought he could because he allowed himself to believe he could have Merlin, and if he had Merlin he wouldn’t care what the world thought. But now he does. He does care. He cares what the world thinks, he cares what Freya thinks, and above all, he cares what Merlin thinks.

He’s aware of the confused looks Merlin is giving him as he completely fails at everything they worked so hard on, and he still can’t bring himself to put his heart into the dance. His heart has taken too much of a battering lately and he needs to lock it away for his own protection.

The judges are talking at him, when did the dance end? They are telling him how hard this dance is for a male celebrity, how it just isn’t his dance, how he needs to move his hips more, learn to express himself. He lets the words wash over him. Let this be it, let it be the end. He’ll go back to playing footie and never showing anyone how he feels, and everything will be ok.


	32. The Dance Off – Time After Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This week Arthur and Merlin are dancing the Rumba to _Time After Time_ by Cindy Lauper, but here is the Eva Cassidy version
> 
> <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KWvPOJOYqGA>
> 
> * * *

“Care to tell me exactly what went wrong out there?” Merlin doesn’t look angry, if he did it might be easier to cope with. “Only I know this isn’t your favourite dance, but you seemed to be getting the hang of it in rehearsal. Then, performance night and the iceman cometh.”

Arthur looks down at his patent black dance shoes and shrugs his shoulders.

“Hey, come on, talk to me.” Merlin puts his hand on Arthur’s arm, the warmth of it a comforting weight through Arthur’s thin white shirt.

“There’s nothing to tell. I fucked it up, I’m sorry.”

“There’s more to it than that, I’m not stupid, Arthur. I do understand that most male celebrities find the Rumba hard to do, it can be difficult to lay your emotions bare like that. And I know you’ve really struggled with it all week, but it’s like something happened and suddenly you just couldn’t dance at all. So, what happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Arthur, don’t make me call you a clotpole.”

Arthur laughs in spite of himself. “You usually do that anyway.”

“Fine. Tell me what’s wrong, Clotpole.”

Arthur looks over at Merlin, at his beautiful big deep-blue eyes that crinkle up when he laughs, his exquisite high cheekbones that can’t possibly be real, his dark hair that never seems to want to lie straight, his wonderful ears – and yes, ok, being attracted to someone’s ears is perhaps a little odd, but Arthur absolutely loves those ears. How could he have ever thought that he could have someone like this? People Merlin aren’t meant for people like Arthur, they are meant for other perfect beautiful people like Freya or Gwen or Mithian or Gwaine or Lance or pretty much anyone who is not Arthur. 

Maybe no one is meant for Arthur. Arthur is weak, Arthur is stupid, Arthur is ugly, Arthur is good for nothing. Arthur is unlovable. Arthur should have died instead of Igraine. Uther’s never actually said that, he’s never actually said any of it. He’s never had to. Arthur shakes his head, trying to banish his father from his thoughts but he never quite seems to go.

Merlin says nothing, just sits down next to Arthur and waits.

“I saw you dancing with Freya,” Arthur says at last.

“Ok?”

“You’re really good.”

“Um, thanks. Should I be offended that you seem surprised?”

Arthur shrugs. “I just never saw you actually do proper dancing before.

“What do you think we’re doing if it’s not proper dancing?”

Arthur laughs, completely without humour. “We don’t do… _that_.” He waves his hand trying to encompass the beauty of Merlin and Freya. 

“So, let me get this straight, you’re upset because you realised that I can actually dance and I wasn’t just pretending to be a dancer?”

“No, idiot.” Arthur rolls his eyes. “It’s just… how can you bear dancing with me when you can dance like that?” That’s not it, not really, but he can’t tell Merlin the real problem.

Merlin takes Arthur’s hand. “Look at me.” He waits till Arthur does. “I like teaching. It makes me happy to take someone who has never danced before and get them up and dancing and confident. Do you have any idea how much you’ve improved since you started? Could you have imagined yourself doing any what you’ve achieved six months ago?”

“We were in the dance off last week, we’ll probably be in the dance off tonight, and all because of me. How does that say improvement to you?”

“Well, if we might be in the dance off tonight, you are going to have to tell me the real reason you froze out there or else I’m not going to be able to help. Because flattered as I am that you think I’m wonderful, I’m not buying it.”

Arthur would almost want to laugh if it weren’t so tragic – Merlin being wonderful is exactly the problem. 

“I guess I’m just… self conscious?”

“Nope, try again.”

He sighs. “Fine. I’m struggling with the whole pretending to be in love thing.”

“Would pretending to be in love with me be that awful?”

“Yes!”

Merlin looks a bit hurt and Arthur feels like a complete sod for making him look that way. 

Arthur looks down at where Merlin’s long expressive fingers are still clutching his. “I…” Sod it, in for a penny. “I can’t pretend. I can’t pretend to be in love with you and then just stop and let you go back to Freya. You two look so in love. I… I just can’t.”

“It’s just acting, Arthur, you don’t have to mean it.”

“Maybe that’s the sodding problem! I’m not an actor. Maybe I do mean it, and I can’t lay my whole soul out there for everyone to see only for it to be trampled on by someone who can never feel the same way.”

Merlin is silent for a moment while. “Just to clarify, who are we talking about?”

Arthur can’t look at him, can’t bear to see the contempt on Merlin’s beautiful face. Why can’t mortification just make you vanish from existence in a little puff of smoke? He lifts one shoulder and drops it again, not trusting his voice not to crack.

“Arthur? Look at me please.” Merlin doesn’t sound disgusted. Arthur risks looking at him. “Why would you think I can’t feel the same?”

“Well. Because I’m me. And you’re you and Freya is gorgeous.”

“Freya?” A small line is creasing Merlin’s brow right between his eyes. Arthur wants to reach up and smooth it away.

“Gwen told me. About how one of you cheated and that is why you don’t dance together any more.”

Merlin starts to laugh. “Ok, I think wires have been crossed. The person who cheated was Sofia, and no, before you start, I was never in any form of relationship with her. She used to be engaged to Mordred but she had an affair with a previous contestant – Myror, who she won the competition with two years ago. I’m sure she mentioned it a few million times.”

Arthur nods. Yes, Sofia never seemed to stop going on about the time she won _Strictly_.

Merlin continues, “When Mordred found out, he refused to dance with her. No one else would either because she is basically a nightmare, so I took one for the team and agreed to swap dance partners. Mordred is fine now, by the way, he’s madly in love with Kara, who’s dancing with Percy, and Sofia is ancient history.”

“So, you and Freya?” 

Merlin shakes his head. “I have known Freya since I was 14 and she was 15, we’ve been dancing together nearly as long. That’s all. I think she sees me as her slightly annoying little brother. Also, as Freya and most other people are aware, girls have never really been my thing.”

“Right.” Arthur looks up into Merlin’s open and honest face, tries not to get lost in his eyes. 

“Right,” Merlin repeats. “And just for the record, I very much do feel the same way.”

Merlin is right there, it would be such a small move to close the distance and kiss him. One of them must have moved first because Merlin’s lovely, sinful, pouty lips, which may well have been the subject of several of Arthur's fantasies, are warm and soft and—

“Ten minutes everyone!” Daegal’s voice calls from outside the room. “Ten minutes till we’re on.”

They both jump back guiltily.

Merlin glances at the clock and frowns. “So much for a quick practice. Looks like we’re winging this one.” He grabs hold of Arthur’s hand as he heads for the door. “Arthur, I meant what I said last week. If this is it, I still want to see you, ok? Show or no show.”

Arthur nods, still a little uncertain if that really just happened.

Merlin glances back and smiles before leaning in for another quick kiss. He takes Arthur’s hand and they head back down to find out if they are in the dance off.

The first couple to land the red light is Percy and Kara and Arthur really hopes he and Merlin won’t be the other couple. Not only did Percy do much better in the Charleston, dancing to _Yes Sir, that's my Baby_ , than Arthur did in the Rumba, and he doesn’t want to be up against him like this. Then again, everyone else is a friend too, whatever way he looks at it, either he goes home this week or one of his friends does.

But they are still there as the contestants are whittled down to two couples, and it is not really a surprise when once again their names are called and the red light of doom falls on them for the second week running. He’s not at all sure he can go out there and do this, this is it, this week he is going home for definite. He looks over at Merlin. Merlin who just kissed him, Merlin who still wants to see him whatever happens. 

They dance first this time. It feels like it comes easier to him this time – he doesn’t have to pretend to be in love whilst pretending not to be, although he probably won’t admit to anyone but Merlin that there is no pretence involved. Merlin is mesmerising in this dance. Technically he is playing what could be called the woman’s part in the dance, but he is at no point pretending to actually be female or to dance the role as a woman would - this is very much a dance between two men and Arthur really no longer cares who can see that. Now that Arthur can allow himself to pay attention to Merlin they seem to move together, far more in tune with each other than they have ever been, and it’s like the movements suddenly make more sense, no longer just a series of unrelated steps.

He’s sure it’s far from perfect, but he hopes it will be enough to get him through, even if he does feel a little like he is betraying Percy by essentially wanting him to lose. 

The audience are on their feet clapping when they finish. Is that a good sign or is it sympathy? They had clapped earlier too, and even Arthur had been able to tell that was awful. No, the audience are not to be trusted.

He watches Percy from the side of the dance floor, in a strange mixed bag of feelings of wanting him to do well and yet still wanting to win. The Charleston is usually one of the dances everyone enjoys, but even Arthur can see that Percy’s long limbs are awkward in this dance, and perhaps Percy himself is just too earnest to really let go. Still, it’s fun and fast and silly and the complete opposite of the Rumba and Arthur is sure all the judges will vote for Percy over them.

“Both dancers improved,” Katrina says, looking a little like she’s chewing a bee. “But one couple, had they danced like this last night, might well have found themselves quite high up on the leaderboard. I have to save Arthur and Merlin.”

“Percy, you did try tonight. You listened to the judges and you took our advice on board. However, Arthur, why oh why did you not dance like that last night? I don’t know what happened, but it was like watching a different person – really well done. I’m saving Arthur and Merlin.”

“One couple improved beyond recognition, the other couple had a lot of mistakes. I’m saving Arthur and Merlin,” Ruadan says.

That is it, they are through, it doesn’t matter what Kilgharrah says now, they have three votes.

“I would have agreed with my fellow judges,” Kilgharrah says. “I would save Arthur and Merlin.”

They give Percy and Kara a quick hug. “I’m so sorry, mate,” he says. “I thought you were through for sure.”

Percy grins, “Nah, we're good, you deserve it!” He doesn’t look unhappy in the slightest, but Arthur still wishes they could both have got through as he watches Percy go off for his final dance. 

“We’re going to Blackpool!” Merlin says excitedly once they are off stage. “I never get through to Blackpool!”

“Well technically, you didn’t this time,” Morgana says from behind them. “You got kicked out week two, remember?” She smiles a fairly evil witch smile and moves away.

Merlin looks over at Arthur. “We got through to Blackpool!”


	33. Slow Quick Quick Slow

Arthur is not sure what to expect on Monday morning as he heads to the practice studio. Merlin had got a phone call and left on Saturday night with an apology and a smile and Arthur has not heard from him since (which, yeah, ok, he really needs to get a new mobile number so he could actually switch the damn thing on without getting any messages from Uther, and yes, he is being childish, sue him). Which basically means he’s had all day Sunday to overthink things.

The problem really is this. When they did the Tango, Merlin went out of his way to make Arthur angry so that he’d get the mood right for the dance. There is a treacherous little voice in the back of Arthur’s head asking if Merlin was doing the same thing on Saturday night. The Rumba is the dance of love after all, so would Merlin make Arthur think they were in love just so he would perform better in the dance off? How badly did Merlin really want to get to Blackpool?

The moment he pushes the door to the practice room open, and Merlin looks up and smiles from where he is walking through dance steps and talking to himself, Arthur knows he is being a prat without Merlin having to actually tell him. 

“Hi.” He walks over as Merlin puts his arms down from whatever piece of choreography he was working out and they both stand there looking unsure for a moment. “I missed you,” Arthur says, and before he can think too hard and chicken out, he leans in places a quick kiss on Merlin’s mouth. 

Merlin’s grin is almost blinding. “I missed you too, Clotpole.” 

“I hope it was nothing serious?” 

Merlin raises an eyebrow at the question.

“On Saturday night,” Arthur clarifies. “You left in a hurry. I hope nothing was wrong.”

“Oh!” Merlin’s face clears. “My best mate, Will, landed himself in A+E.”

“Oh my god, is he alright?”

Merlin wrinkles his nose and shrugs. “I think so. You wouldn’t believe how many times that man ends up there on a Saturday night. I think he has his own personal bed.”

“He gets into fights?” It seems odd that Merlin would have a best friend like that when Arthur can’t imagine Merlin throwing a punch, ever.

Merlin shakes his head. “Not exactly. He does have a very big mouth and tends to get punched a lot, but he’s also incredibly clumsy – last year he tripped on a pothole and broke a metatarsal. A few months ago he fell backwards down a flight of stairs and broke his arm. Another time he walked out of a pub and somehow managed to knock himself out on the wing mirror of a bus – don’t even ask, I have no clue how he did it. On Saturday he was in a bar minding his own business and actually managed to get in the middle of someone else’s fight – some girl tried to punch her boyfriend and broke Will’s nose instead when the boyfriend ducked.”

“I…” Arthur shuts up quickly because he has a horrible feeling he might start laughing at the misfortune of Merlin’s friend, and then Merlin will realise what a horrible person he is. “So, shall we warm up?” 

They go through their usual warm ups and go for a run as they do most mornings.

“You’ll be glad of all this extra training, you’re going to need it,” Merlin says as they arrive back at the practice studio. 

“Are we doing the Jive?” Arthur asks hopefully. “We could do the Jive in Blackpool to ‘Blackpool’ by The Macc Lads!” 

Merlin snorts. “Calm down, cowboy, no we’re not doing the Jive, and we are not dancing to a song that would get me sacked. Stop looking so sulky, we are doing much better than the Jive, we are doing the Quickstep! And before you say anything else, the Quickstep is one of my favourite dances so be very very careful.”

The Quickstep… all Arthur really knows about the Quickstep is it is quick, and it involves steps. He knows Morgana and Leon came top of the leaderboard when they did it, and he remembers Mithian enjoying it, and Percy, but that’s about all.

Merlin can obviously read the blank look on Arthur’s face because he laughs and shakes his head. “It’s like a really fast Foxtrot with a little Charleston thrown in for good measure.”

Arthur wrinkles his nose. “I’m shite at the Foxtrot. And I haven’t done the Charleston.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow at him. “Less negativity would be good – this is Blackpool week and we are going to smash it. It’s only a little bit of Charleston at the start, it’ll be the easiest bit of the dance. And as for the Foxtrot, you’ve improved massively since week 2, and you won’t have Sofia here to bully you. I can get you dancing the Foxtrot, no trouble.”

“Ok, fine. Show me.” Arthur nods. Merlin is right, new week new dance, he can’t let previous failures get him down.

Merlin doesn’t always play him the music straight off, preferring Arthur to get the hang of the steps first. This time, however, he heads straight over to the music system in the corner. “I’m going a little old school with this one, it just seems right in the Tower Ballroom, so I’ll play the music and let you get the sort of Swing vibe I’m going for. 

A fast drum beat starts. “We’ll probably cut this down a bit or our whole time will be taken up in drums.” Then, as the music starts, Merlin demonstrates what Arthur assumes are ‘the Charleston bits’, which seem kinda fun. Next he moves into various sections involving spinning and complicated footwork and running punctuated by stopping and posing or jumping. Anyone walking into the room would think Merlin was experiencing some sort of strange episode, or perhaps that he was being chased by a particularly aggressive bee.

As Merlin finishes, he looks over and grins. “It’ll look better with you here, obviously, but that is the general gist of it.”

Arthur nods. “And you really think I can do that? Like, any of it?”

“Of course you can! We have at least three days to perfect it, you’ll be fine.”

“I guess we’d better get on with it then.”


	34. We’re Going Down Blackpool

Arthur doesn’t think he’s ever work as hard at anything in his life as he has at the Quickstep this week. There is not a muscle in his body that doesn’t hurt and some days he’s so tired he could almost cry as he sinks into a hot bath. He’s moved back to his own flat now, so at least he no longer has to listen to Pel complain about him falling asleep in the bath.

It’s also possibly been the best week of his life. He’s loving the Quickstep. He didn’t – for quite a big part of the week he hated it with a passion and was convinced he would never get the hang of it. But Merlin is a hard taskmaster and by now Arthur is pretty sure he’s got this dance nailed – he can do chasses, scatter chasses (these are his favourite because they involve moving across the ball room very fast with Merlin pressed against him), locksteps, running finishes, the Charleston, you name it. He would happily do nothing but dance the Quickstep with Merlin for the rest of his life, and he’s experiencing that joy you get from being able to do something and do it well (he hopes). He loves the music, he loves the complicated but fun footwork and he can absolutely see why this is one of Merlin’s favourite dances.

They’ve also spent the week slowly starting to explore this new… whatever it is with Merlin. They haven’t moved much beyond kissing – they’ve been far too busy dancing for anything else – but there is such a general joy of a new relationship between them that it seems to be powering their dance shoes.

They already did their costume fitting yesterday – Merlin wants them both in tails again so they spin out with all the fast turns in the dance. The costume department are run off their feet this week so they probably love that they can just dress Merlin and Arthur in pretty much the same costumes they had for the Waltz – the main difference being this week they are both the full on Fred Astaire white waistcoats and ties, as opposed the the red and blue in the Waltz. They also have top hats and canes for the start of the dance that they will toss away before they move into hold, and quite frankly Arthur rocks the whole cane thing – he’s perfected this little twirl technique where he puts his foot on the cane so it flips up and he catches it and spins it, and he’s better at it than Merlin! 

They’re in Blackpool and they pretty much have the afternoon to themselves. Merlin is shocked (read, appalled) to discover that Arthur has never been here before. To make up for this they are currently on a tram on their way to the North Pier. They don’t get far down the pier before they are recognised, probably aided by the fact that they have a small camera crew with them to film some footage for their VT. They end up giving a short demonstration of their scatter chasse down the historic pier to a small group of people who clap and cheer – apparently there are _Strictly_ fans out in force in blackpool today. Eventually they get to go on the old carousel at the end of the pier – apparently there are proper rides and rollercoasters all over Blackpool, but Merlin somehow thought the old fashioned North Pier would get them in the mood for the Quickstep more. 

They go out for dinner at the Beach House looking out over the Irish Sea, with Gwen and Lance (who has come up to Blackpool to support Gwen), Elyan, Mithian, Gwaine and Freya. Elena, Leon, Morgana, Annis and Agalin are all arriving on Saturday morning and the other professionals seem to have their own plans for the Friday night. 

“So, you lot are paying, right?” Freya asks with a smile.

“I don’t mind paying,” Arthur says. “My treat.” Why not, he’s not exactly short of money and his new friends here have made his life so much better in the last few weeks.

“Wow, someone is made of money, did they give you an extra big bonus for having to dance with Merlin?” Lance jokes.

“Bonus?” Arthur blinks. “What bonus?” 

“Did you not get a bonus?” Gwen asks with a look of concern. “We were all supposed to get a bonus if we got to Blackpool.”

Of course, Agravaine took care of all the financial stuff, no doubt he was planning on keeping Arthur’s bonus. He’ll have to sort that out. “I, er, I’ll have to check with my agent. Ex-agent.”

“Yes, thanks for rubbing that in, by the way,” Lance says, diplomatically leading the subject away from Arthur and pretending to look hurt. “Some of us got kicked out weeks ago didn’t get the bonus.”

“It’s ok, mate, we don’t get a bonus either,” Merlin says, shaking his head in commiseration. “They just work us poor dancers into the ground.”

“Aww, poor little Merlin,” Mithian says. “Arthur had better look after you.”

Arthur is pretty sure all of their friends know there is something between him and Merlin, they are not exactly being subtle. The thing is, he doesn’t really care anymore. There was a time not too long ago where the idea of anyone knowing about him being in a relationship with another man would have made him break out in a cold sweat. But now it’s different, he’s cut ties with his father and uncle and all their opinions and even though he’s not ready to share too much with the outside world yet, he can’t find it in him to be ashamed of loving Merlin. He wants his friends to know, he wants to share his happiness with them, and he wants to sit next to Merlin when they are out and act like any other couple would. So he does.

As they head back to the hotel, trying to ignore the cold wind, Arthur is letting his brain work over time. Should he invite Merlin back to his room? He wants to, he really does, but it feels like such a big step. Most of his previous experience has not been serious, just fun with people he thought he could trust. But with Merlin… hell, surely it should be easier with Merlin? Why does he feel afraid of disappointing him? 

Merlin nudges his arm and raises his eyebrows, in a way that Arthur has learnt means he has to stop thinking so hard. Arthur takes this to mean he is being too quiet and he makes an effort to join in the conversation.

But Merlin though, he really should ask him back, shouldn’t he? Merlin won’t judge him or expect anything of him that he’s not ready to give?

Because really he feels more comfortable with Merlin than with anyone else in the world, so why is he making this into a bigger deal than it should be? 

He nods to himself as they go into the hotel and all head off to their respective rooms. Yes, Merlin’s room is next to his, so once the others have all gone to their respective rooms, or more likely, each other’s, he will ask Merlin.

They get to the door and Arthur rubs his suddenly sweaty hands on his jeans. “So…”

And then, because life is a sod, Merlin’s mobile rings. He looks at the screen and then mouths, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” at him. “Hi Mum,” he says into the phone as he heads for his own room. “No, you’re not interrupting.”

Arthur sighs and opens his own door. Bloody typical. He unlocks the connecting door to their rooms, just in case, but he can still hear Merlin talkin to his mum on the other side of the door.

He may or may not spend the next few hours, when he should be sleeping, listening in case there is a knock on the adjoining door between his room and Merlin’s. He may or may not also spend some of that time wondering if Merlin is doing the same thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honour of the fabulous Camelittle, this chapter is named after the song Blackpool by the Macc Lads. Don't listen if you are easily offended, do listen if you like a laugh :D
> 
> <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M6of1XpRiC0>
> 
> * * *


	35. Now We're Dancing With a Swing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This week Arthur and Merlin are dancing the Quickstep to _Sing, Sing, Sing_ by Louis Prima, as performed here by Benny Goodman
> 
> <https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=r2S1I_ien6A>
> 
> * * *

The Blackpool Tower Ballroom takes grand to a whole new level and it is all Arthur can do not to just stand there with his mouth open. It’s like he has been transported back to a different era.

Arthur suddenly feels tiny with the huge expanse of dance floor stretched out in front of him and he finds himself wishing he were back in Elstree which seems homely and welcoming in comparison. The sheer size of Merlin’s choreography with the big band number makes far more sense now. 

Things he discovers has they have their first run-through are that this dance is going to be exhausting with the sheer space they have to cover, at speed, but also the floor is sprung, meaning when they bounce they really bounce – and after telling him he needs more rise and fall all week, Merlin is suddenly telling him off for having too much. 

All the couples have backing dancers this week, presumably to cover the huge dance floor. For the most part the dance is just him and Merlin, but as the music really gets into the swing, excuse the pun, the other couples join in. He’s so used to it just being him and Merlin that the extra dancers are somewhat putting him off and he can’t help worrying he will crash into them. 

He is so busy concentrating on his own steps that it takes him a while to step back and watch the other dancers. Even then it takes him a moment or two to notice.

“Merlin? What the hell have you done?”

Merlin looks over and grins at him. “Brilliant, isn’t it?”

Arthur nods, staring at the dancers. Merlin arranged it so that all the dancers are in a bright colours, presumably to contrast with Merlin and Arthur in black and white, and they are all same-sex couples.

“You’ve made them into a bloody pride flag.”

“I know,” Merlin crows. “I didn’t think they’d let me get away with it.”

Arthur wants to complain, he really does, he wants to remind Merlin that he’s not actually out yet. But he has to admit the dancers look amazing, twirling about in a rainbow, especially the girls dancing together in their long feathered dresses. Even the men have different coloured suits on.

“How did you manage this?” Arthur asks instead.

Merlin shrugs. “Well, I might have forgotten to mention to the powers that be that it’s all boy on boy and girl on girl. I’m hoping that by the time they notice it will be too late. There are only five other couples, and they are all wearing costumes from old dances so the costume department didn’t have to break the bank, they just had to make a few adjustments and help me pick out some colours. I told them it would be like an old black and white movie that suddenly turns technicolour – which is actually true, it’s going to look fantastic.”

Arthur nods. Merlin is right, it really does look brilliant. Even if Arthur’s own dancing is not good enough, hopefully this spectacle Merlin is putting on will be enough to get them votes and they won’t be in the dance off for the third week running.

 

***

 

The excitement in the air is catching for tonight’s show and the production team have really outdone themselves. All the dancers, celebs and pros alike look absolutely amazing – if anything Merlin and Arthur in their black and white penguin suits look rather drab by comparison. Gwen is dressed as a 1920s flapper for her Charleston, whilst Mithian has the full on Rio Carnival look for her _Copacabana_ Samba. 

They are last on tonight, which Arthur thought would be a good thing but turns out to possibly be worse than going first. 

They get to watch everyone else, and whether good or bad, each performance racks up the nerves in Arthur’s belly. 

Mithian’s Samba is ok, probably better than Arthur’s, but the judges are not that nice. Elena also does not get good comments for the Cha Cha Cha, especially as she managed to trip down the stairs at the beginning. 

And if the negative comments remind him of past failures, the good dances make him think he can never match them. Gwen’s Charleston to Will-I-Am’s _Bang_ is amazing, and Elyan’s Paso to _Seven Nation Army_ is really good too. Gwaine’s Couple’s Choice is brilliant, and then, the last one just before theirs, Morgana and Leon do an Argentine Tango to Carl Barât’s _The Fall_ that gets them a perfect score of 40 out of 40, the highest score of the series so far.

“Great, now follow that,” Arthur mutters to Merlin as they make to move into position for their number.”

Merlin looks at him, and for a moment it feels like he is staring right into his soul. Then he nods. “We can follow that no problem, stop fretting. Ours is going to be amazing.”

Arthur is not sure what sort of spell Merlin just did on him, but it worked. Of course they can do this, why did he ever think otherwise?

They separate off to opposite sides of the dance floor, top hats on, canes positioned on the floor. The drums start and they move, stepping on the canes to flip them up, then twirling them in perfect unison. 

Now they move into the centre, jettison the hats and canes and move into hold as the music starts properly and they are off. Arthur feels like he has wings on his dance shoes tonight as they scatter chasse their way down the whole length of the Tower Ballroom like it was nothing. 

As far as he can tell, it goes perfectly, all the tricks and flicks hitting the beat, him and Merlin moving in perfect synchronicity. He barely notices this time as the other dancers join in in all their multicoloured glory.

He slowly becomes aware of the audience on their feet clapping a moment or two after the music stops. 

Then Merlin laughs and throws his arms around him. “Yes! That was brilliant, Arthur, you were brilliant!”

“Well what a way to end the show!” Gaius says. “I thought that was wonderful. Come on over, boys, let’s hear what the judges have to say.”

Finna and Kilgharrah are both among the people on their feet clapping, but Katrina still looks like she smells something particularly nasty.

“Your thumb was up the whole way through that. Your frame has improved, but your bottom still stuck out. Also you weren’t in sync at the start and I think that through you off for the whole week. And I know we ask for rise and fall, but really the whole thing was too skippy.”

Finna turns in her chair to glare at Katrina. “Well, I don’t know what dance you were watching, but it wasn’t the same one I was!” She turns back to Merlin and Arthur. “I thought that was sensational, the perfect ending to our Blackpool show. Merlin, you really are a wonderful choreographer. It was light, it was fun. I have no idea where Katrina saw any lack of synchronization, because it was almost like you were one being joined at the hip, and perfectly synchronised. Very well done, boys.”

Ruadan is nodding. “Welcome to the competition at last, Arthur. I don’t know what happened to the dancer who was at the bottom of the leaderboard for the last two weeks, but he is certainly not here tonight. That was clean, it was precise, your footwork was excellent. It was everything a classic Quickstep should be. I do agree with Katrina that your bottom still sticks out on occasion, but not enough to really marr the performance and most of the time your frame was excellent, and that was the only criticism I could find. Very good indeed.”

Kilgharrah is smiling, which is a vaguely scary sight. “I do believe there are people who would pay good money to dance a Quickstep like that in the Tower Ballroom with the King of Ballroom Dancing – you most certainly did not waste that opportunity. There were times when I could not pick you out from the professional dancers. Your footwork was impeccable, your frame was almost perfect. You make a perfect partnership, completely in tune with one another, as Finna says, like one being, two halves of a whole. Excellent.”

They breathe a sigh of relief as they run up the stairs to speak to Vivian before the results. Last week they had scored 17, easily the worst score of the night. 

Katrina gives them 6, which considering her words and the fact she gave them 3s for the last two weeks, is pretty good. Arthur’s heart nearly climbs out of his chest, however as Finna jumps to her feet and brandishes her paddle in the air with a triumphant “10!”

Merlin lets out a loud ‘Whoop’ beside him and starts jumping up and down. “YES! That’s my first ever 10 on _Strictly_! We got a 10!”

Ruadan gives them a 9, and the irony is that that is also their first 9.

Kilgharrah is smirking as he also holds aloft a 9 paddle and Merlin goes berserk, leaping around the stage and whooping. 

“Oh my god, I can’t believe it! Thirty-four! Thirty-four! That’s, oh I can’t even count it, how many more it that? Seventeen? We doubled our score!” He runs over to the balcony and starts waving. “Mum, we got a 10!” 

They are joint third on the leaderboard with Gwaine and Freya, Gwen and Mordred are second and, of course, Morgana and Leon are top. Elyan and Helen are fourth, Mithian and Cornelius fifth and Elena and Tauren sixth with Annis and Aglain at the bottom.

Merlin is still running around hugging anyone who stands still long enough, and eventually he gets back to Arthur and hugs him too. “Thank you! Even if we get sent home tonight, you got me to Blackpool and you got me a 10!”

Arthur laughs and subtly extracts himself from Merlin’s embrace. “You are the one who got us here, Idiot, I’d be sitting at home watching this in my pants if you hadn’t come along!” He desperately wants to kiss Merlin, right here right now, but fortunately he has just enough restraint to stop himself. Not for the first time he finds himself almost wishing for the _Strictly_ experience to be over just so he and Merlin can be a proper couple.

“Arthur, there’s someone I want you to meet,” Merlin says as they all head down the stairs after the camera’s have stopped rolling.

A pretty, petite woman with straight brown hair comes over and hugs Merlin. Arthur assumes, from the shouting over the balcony thing, that this must be Merlin’s mum. At first he doesn’t see much similarity between them until she looks at him with expressive blue eyes and then smiles in a way that make her whole face light up and then he sees it.

“Hello, Arthur, I’m Hunith, thank you so much for making my boy so happy.” She gives him a quick hug.

“He absolutely deserves it, he should have been getting 10s all along, he’s an amazing dancer and choreographer,” Arthur says a little awkwardly. 

Hunith smiles at him in a way that says that wasn’t quite what she meant and Arthur is certain then that Merlin has told his mum about them. 

There is a little bit of him that can’t help but feel envious – Merlin and his mum seem so close. He wants someone like that. He wants a mum. He’s never known what it’s like to have one, for all Uther’s women over the years, and it must be nice to have someone love you unconditionally like that. What must it be like to have someone who would just accept you for who you are? Would she be as lovely and supportive as Merlin’s mum? Would she have stood up to Uther in defence of Arthur? Would she have told him he was alright, there was nothing wrong with him, nothing to be ashamed of? Would he not have been the only person here tonight with no family sitting in the audience cheering him on. Well, the only person apart from Morgana, at least he still has her, however prickly she might be. 

“Merlin’s father was a wonderful ballroom dancer,” Hunith says. “He takes after him.”

“I thought you were a dancer?” Arthur asks. “I thought Merlin said you ran a dance school?”

She nods. “That’s right. But it was Balinor who was the real dancer. He taught me how to dance. And now Merlin is teaching you.” She smiles and takes his arm. “Come and tell me all about your lessons. I thought you two were magnificent out there.

 

***

 

The dance off is fairly predictable this week. Elena manages not to trip down the stairs this time, so it is Annis and Aglain dancing a Rumba that go out of the competition. Arthur is a little sad to see them go, even if Annis does seem to know Uther rather better than he’d like to think about – if Arthur hated every woman Uther had ever had a dalliance with, there wouldn’t be many left to like.

The aftershow party, as promised, is spectacular. Everyone is in high spirits, even Annis, and the alcohol is flowing. Despite being exhausted with various injuries, sore feet and aching limbs after spending the last nine weeks dancing almost non-stop, most people are still dancing at two a.m., including the judges and the crew. Hunith went back to her hotel sometime around one thirty, but Arthur doesn’t manage to persuade her son to leave until nearly three. It’s around about when Merlin decides to try pole dancing that Arthur has to drag him away. 

One thing has become very clear tonight – Merlin is a complete lightweight. He doesn’t usually seem to drink much when they go out, and Arthur thinks he may have just discovered why.

“Sing, sing, sing sing!” Merlin belows out across Blackpool as they head back to the hotel. “Everybody start to sing, ba da ba da da da daaaah! Now we’re singing with a swing!”

“Merlin, will you shut up? You are going to get us banished from the whole of Blackpool.”

“SING SING SI—mmph” Merlin finally stops singing when Arthur puts his hand over his mouth. It doesn’t last long, a devilish gleam comes into Merlin’s eye, and the next thing Arthur knows Merlin has licked his hand.

“That’s disgusting!” He wipes his hand on Merlin’s sleeve.

“I can think of parts of you I’d rather lick.” Merlin bats his eyelashes in a way that he no doubt believes to be sexy.

“Maybe sometime when you haven’t had a skinful,” Arthur says as he manoeuvers a suddenly cuddly, and thankfully quieter, Merlin into the hotel.

“I wanna see your room,” Merlin says as they go up in the lift. “You never invited me into your room. We should have got chips. Let’s get chips. And a pickled egg.”

“I don’t think there are any chip shops open, Merlin. And believe me, there is nothing I’d like better than to have you in my bed, but you are very very drunk so let’s take a rain check.”

He manages to practically carry Merlin into his own room and puts him down on the bed. 

“Are you going to undress me?” Merlin wiggles his hips, no doubt trying to look seductive. 

Arthur sighs and bends to remove Merlin’s shoes and take off his his belt. “Only that far. Now drink some water and go to sleep.” He grabs a bottle of water out of the minibar and opens it, holding it to Merlin’s lips so he drinks.

He goes back to his own room and takes a quick shower. When he returns he finds the connecting door, which he had unlocked from his side last night, is standing open and a very naked Merlin is sprawled out on his bed.

And that would be the stuff of his dreams, except that Merlin is currently spreadeagled face down across the whole bed and is snoring very loudly.

Arthur can’t help laughing as he covers Merlin over so he doesn’t catch cold. “Only you, Idiot,” He says fondly as he drops a kiss on the top of Merlin’s head.

There is no room for him in his own bed now, so he goes to sleep in Merlin’s.


	36. The Hangover

Merlin is still fast asleep on Sunday morning when Arthur looks in to check on him. The hotel stops serving breakfast at 11 a.m., and it was a late night so it’s already gone 10. Feeling a little mean, but unwilling to wake Merlin from so deep a sleep, he decides to go down for breakfast without him. Gwen, Lance and Gwaine are already there, tucking into cooked breakfasts like they hadn’t had a skinful last night – Gwaine had definitely had at least as much as Merlin, probably more, and had quite possibly been the instigator of Merlin’s downfall, and yet he seems to be suffering no ill effects at all.

After half an hour with still no show from Merlin and the breakfast buffet finishing soon, Arthur decides to liberate some food and go back to check on him.

On his return to his room, Arthur is somewhat disappointed to discover Merlin is no longer hogging the bed. Going through to the adjoining room, however, he is met by the very pleasant sight of Merlin clad in nothing but a towel bending over to search for something in his bag. 

Logically, he knows Merlin is fit, in every sense. Clothed, he looks slender, like a strong puff of wind would blow him over, but Arthur knows how hard he works and he has seen him lifting Freya and Sofia like they weigh nothing. He also saw him in his glory last night, at least the back view, but he had tried his best not to perve while Merlin was too rat-arsed to object. Nevertheless, he is not quite prepared for the vision of long pale loveliness that greets him. Merlin is perfection, as far as Arthur is concerned. He is slender, but has well-defined muscles with a very nice covering of dark hair on his chest and a very enticing happy trail. Merlin’s hips… damn it all hips should not be attractive, and Arthur could really do without that towel being in the way.

He is suddenly aware of Merlin clearing his throat and he moves his gaze back upwards..

“Can I help you with something?”

He feels his cheeks flame as he finds Merlin smirking at him. 

“I… er… how are you feeling?” There, good evasion tactics, subtle.

“Like someone took out my brain, liver, kidneys and stomach, ran them over with a combine harvester and put them back, not necessarily in the right order.”

Arthur is a good boyfriend, he does not tell Merlin he brought it all on himself. “I brought you a banana. You could probably do with some eggs or something but I couldn’t carry that.”

Merlin wrinkles his nose at the banana and actually goes a little green at the mention of eggs, but he lets Arthur make him a black coffee with the tiny kettle in the room while he slowly drags some clothes on.

“So,” Merlin says as he sips his coffee. “I woke up in your room?”

Arthur nods.

“Naked…” Merlin mumbles whilst biting his lip.

“Yes. You managed to strip naked, walk into my room, and pass out while I was in the shower. I had to sleep in your bed.”

“Right.” Merlin nods slowly. “So nothing happened?”

Arthur shakes his head. “Your virtue is safe.”

Merlin nods again. “Is that a good thing?”

“What?”

“Well… did you not want to sleep with me?”

Trust bloody Merlin to fixate on the wrong thing.

“Merlin. You were completely blotto. So no, last night I did not want to sleep with you, in any sense, because I kinda prefer my partners to be capable of consent, and you were taking up the whole bed. But that was just last night. Most of the time I would love to have you naked in my bed.”

Merlin grins then winces. “Ow. Why did you let me drink?”

“Because you’re an adult who can make his own decisions?”

Merlin rests his head on his folded arms on the table. “I’m supposed to be choreographing our Couple’s Choice dance for next week,” he says miserably into the tabletop.

“Want me to try?” 

Merlin snorts loudly and then moans again. “Do we have any painkillers?” 

“Hang on.” Arthur goes back into his own room and grabs some aspirin and another bottle of water. “Here. And drink the whole bottle, you need to rehydrate. And eat that banana, you shouldn't take pills on an empty stomach.”

“Bananas and water, you’re no fun,” Merlin grumbles, but he does as he’s told.

“You’ve missed breakfast. How about I take you out for lunch. You need some protein – poached eggs would be good, and tomatoes. Don’t look at me like that.”

They check out, dump their bags in Arthur’s car and find a cafe that serves all day breakfast. Merlin does actually start to look a little less green about the gills once he gets a little food in him. They head for a walk along the beach, even though it’s freezing cold and blowing a hoolie, because Merlin claims it will blow the cobwebs away. 

“I really do have to head back to the studio,” Merlin says at last. We are getting a theatre and tap choreographer to help us this week because it’s couple’s choice, which is not my area of expertise, but I need to have something to show her tomorrow or she will have nothing to work with.”

“Ok, let’s go then.” Arthur turns to head back to where he parked his car. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Merlin shakes his head. “Don’t take this wrong, but I create better on my own without distractions, and you definitely count as a distraction.”

“Ok.” Arthur nods, trying not to sound too disappointed. Merlin has to spend a lot of time in his company, it’s only fair to let him have a few hours to himself.

“Don’t look at me like that or I’ll cave in and we’ll have to spend 90 seconds just flossing on the show next week because I never came up with a routine.”

“That could work. I mean, Ed Balls got away with Gangnam Style.” Arthur grins as he unlocks the car.

Merlin sticks his tongue out at him. “Hush. Just drive me home, Jeeves.”


	37. Tuesday

The whole concept of a ‘Couple’s Choice’ is pretty stupid as far as Arthur is concerned. The only ‘choice’ they were given was whether they do a contemporary, street or theatre and jazz style dance. It’s all very well and good, but even after Merlin tried to explain it several times last week, those options meant nothing to Arthur so what was the point in expecting him to decide anything? He finally went with the decision that contemporary looks weird, but Merlin could decide between the other two. So basically it is pretty much same as usual – Merlin tells him what they are dancing, Arthur does his best to comply.

Now, however, he’s not so sure he made the right decision. He’s pretty sure he didn’t like the look of any of the options, but now Merlin has a choreographer in and they are learning to tap dance, and it is quite possible Merlin has gone insane.

“Is it actually your goal to torture me to death?” he wheezes as he lies on the floor of the practice studio. He’s already had to put his knee brace on, and now his feet are on fire too.

“What happened to ‘I’m a professional football player, I’m the fittest person in the world’?” Merlin says from where he is lying on the floor next to him. The thing is, this style of dancing is new on Merlin too, and Merlin is the pro, so if he can’t do it, what chance does Arthur have?

“I think we should go back to your floss idea and just spend the rest of this week in bed.”

“I hate to tell you this but, lovely as that idea is, I still have to teach you how to Lindy Hop before Saturday too. And tomorrow afternoon we have to go down the West End to see the show and get some tips from the cast so they can put it in our VT, so it will have to be thursday.”

This week the contestants are all performing together in something called a Lindy-Hop-a-Thon, where they will all attempt to do a Lindy Hop at the same time and get rated from best to worst – the rating adding towards their overall score. 

Arthur groans. “I can barely cope with one new dance let alone two.”

“We’ll get the Theatre routine locked down first, Lindy Hop later in the week, it’ll be fine.” Merlin looks like he is about to go to sleep where he is lying on the floor.

“How about a reward scheme, for every time I get the steps right.”

“Hmm, and just what sort of thing might you be thinking?” Merlin looks over at him, one eyebrow raised and a smirk playing about his lips. 

“Well, I was thinking I definitely got the steps right in that last bit.” Arthur rolls over towards Merlin and leans down for a kiss. “That deserves a reward, right?”

Merlin moves up to meet him. “Hmm, possibly.”

The sound of the door opening has them breaking apart and moving away.

“Come on, up you get. You can’t spend all day lying around.” Jonas, the choreographer walks back into the room and claps his hands. 

Merlin and Arthur clamber back to their feet and stretch out their aching muscles.

“Ok, let’s go again. Five, six, seven, eight…”


	38. Lindy

Of all the dances Arthur has done so far, the Lindy Hop just might be his favourite. It is, of course, incredibly difficult to get right and he’s pretty sure he doesn’t most of the time – he’s not sure he’ll ever get the hang of the swivels and turns – but it is fast and chaotic and it’s just so much fun. 

He recognises some of it from parts of the brilliant Charleston Gwen and Mordred did last week, although it’s nothing like the little Charlestonesque bits Merlin threw into their Quickstep. But now he’s added Charleston to the list of dances he hopes to do before he gets kicked off the competition, even though Merlin keeps reminding him that the Charleston and the Lindy are not the same thing.

“We should take up swing dance,” Merlin tells him, laughing as they get to the end of the dance again and collapse against the wall. “You’re not bad at this, with a bit more time you could even be good.”

“Thanks, don’t compliment me too much will you, it might go to my head.”

“Well, your head is pretty big already.”

“Is that a thing you can do?” Arthur pushes his sweaty fringe off his forehead as he regains his breath. “Just learn this sort of dance?”

Merlin nods. “Sure, I’ve taken Swing classes before, they’re loads of fun. Trust me, there are people who do this sort of dance that are amazing – Lindy, Balboa, Collegiate Shag. It’s a whole different discipline to Ballroom.”

“Collegiate Shag, eh?” Arthur waggles his eyebrows for comic effect, although he’s pretty sure at this moment that his eyebrows might be the only part of him that don’t hurt to move.

Merlin rolls his eyes. “Very funny.” He turns his head and watches Arthur for a bit a small smile on his lips.

“What?” Arthur self-consciously turns to look in the floor length mirror covering the wall, trying to see if he has something on his face.

“Has anyone ever told you it should be illegal to be so beautiful?” Merlin is still watching him. 

Arthur frowns and looks in the mirror again. Is Merlin taking the piss? Arthur’s face is blotchy from all the exercise, his hair is dark and sweaty and sticking up at strange angles and his t-shirt is saturated and sticking to him. In short, there is even less beautiful about him right now than there is normally.  
“Ha ha, very funny.” He turns his back on his offensive reflection even as he attempts to flatten his hair down, wrinkling his nose at how wet it is. Merlin is the attractive one in this relationship, not Arthur.

“I’m serious.” Merlin catches Arthur’s hand and pulls him closer, pressing a small kiss to his lips. “Don’t you realise how gorgeous you are? Don’t you know how many girls, and boys, would love to be me right now?” Merlin wraps his arms around Arthur’s waist, seemingly heedless of the state he’s in, and deepens the kiss.

“Merlin,” Arthur says when they break for air, his voice sounding rough even to his own ears. “I’m a sweaty disgusting mess.”

“Hmm,” Merlin says, grinning. “So am I. Come back to mine?”

Arthur shakes his head. “Come to mine instead, I don’t have a flatmate.”

Arthur has moved back to his flat now that the papers have lost interest in him, whereas Merlin lives with his best friend, Will, the one who keeps landing himself in A+E. Arthur has met Will, and whilst they seem to have some sort of unspoken acceptance of each other for the moment, he’d rather have Merlin to himself.

“Hmm, and just what are you planning that Will would be in the way of?” There is a wicked glint back in Merlin’s eye as he moves his hands back around Arthur’s waist. “We have to dance on live television tomorrow night, I’m not sure I should let you have a reward before that.”

“We could be out of the show tomorrow night, we should have fun now. And I want to know just how flexible a professional dancer is.” Arthur circles his own arms around Merlin and moves them down to cup his bum. “Besides, you owe me a reward for all the practice, remember?”

“Is that so?” Merlin grins _that_ grin, the one that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners, and Arthur is by now convinced that Merlin knows exactly what it does to him. “I only seem to remember kissing being part of the deal.”

“Oh, I think I’ve worked harder than that.”

Merlin leans in to kiss him again. “I think maybe you have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't write good smut, insert your own imaginations here


	39. We Dance Whene'er We're Able

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week Arthur and Merlin are dancing the Couple's Choice to _Knights of the Round Table_ from _Monty Python and the Holy Grail/Spamalot_
> 
> <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m9wdYy3tCm4>
> 
> * * *

Arthur has a feeling the make-up girl is laughing at him. And really, it is all Merlin’s fault for leaving marks on Arthur’s skin that have to be covered up. Well, he might blush a little, but he’ll be damned if he’s going to be ashamed. 

Their costumes for tonight are a little weird. The costume department have come up with some sort of weird glittery material that seems to be loosely knitted out of silvery yarn. Close up it looks completely rubbish and Arthur has half a mind to refuse to wear it, but then he catches sight of Merlin in identical garb and realises the genius of it, because from a distance it really does look like he’s wearing very shiny and sparkly chainmail. 

The dress run doesn’t go too badly, although Arthur is pretty sure they will have a hard job living up to last week’s Quickstep. The few people watching it from the sidelines are laughing, which he assumes is a good thing because it is supposed to be a comical number.

They switch to their Lindy Hop outfits and attempt a run through with all the seven remaining couples. It’s a complete and utter disaster, and Arthur is very glad they got to try this first rather than just all go out there and start dancing into each other. 

The trouble is, every dance they have done so far has been choreographed to within an inch of its life. The Lindy Hop is not a dance designed to be choreographed like that, and the dance-a-thon vibe isn’t either, and most of the celebrities can’t cope with it – especially as it also involves tricks and lifts. Arthur feels a little bad for thinking this, because who is he to judge, but a lot of the professional dancers don’t seem to be very experienced in this style of dance either.

Fortunately Merlin does know how to Lindy Hop, and he has been teaching Arthur not only how to do the steps right and swivel his feet and do a couple of lifts (and seriously, Merlin is not as light as he looks), but also about checking where he’s dancing to and making sure there is room. Poor Gwaine, who seems to be very good at the basic steps but not so much the proper leading the dance bit, manages to crash into Leon and Morgana, making her curse him in a way that had previously only been reserved for Arthur. Mithian and Cornelius manage to block Elyan and Helen into a corner, which results in her yelling in a very loud voice, ‘You never could dance, Cedric Sigan!’

“Cedric?” Arthur mouths at Merlin.

Merlin sniggers and whispers back, “That’s his real name, he thought Cornelius sounded more dramatic.”

“I’m not sure which is worse to be fair.”

After a couple more goes, the instructors and the director deem the Lindy-Hop-a-Thon to be just about acceptable. Privately, Arthur is quietly confident about it, the only other couple who seem to really have a handle on the Lindy Hop are Gwen and Mordred, who had some Lindy steps in their Charleston last week. The others are ok, but he’s hoping he and Merlin are better.

They are third to dance tonight, which is probably best. First out is nerve wracking all on its own, but you then get to relax slightly before the dance off. Last out seems like the best option but you have to watch everyone else go first, and you are tense the whole time waiting for your turn. So about middle is good.

It seems strange now that there are so few contestants left, there were so many of them that he felt his bad dancing could easily hide away in the crowd. Now, even dances that are not too bad are ending up near the bottom of the leaderboard. 

They are dancing a Theatre number for their Couple’s Choice dance, and Merlin thought it would be funny, based on both their names, to do a song from Spamalot. They went to meet the cast on Wednesday and got plenty of tips from them and then watched the show, which was about a million times better than Arthur thought it would be. So now here they are, dressed as knights and dancing to _Knights of the Round Table_.

It’s fun, in a strange ‘things-he-never-thought-he’d-be-doing’ sort of way. Part of the routine is a little bit of tap, other parts are almost the can-can, and he’s pretty sure he’s the world’s worst tap dancer, but he and Merlin really go for it, pulling comical faces and acting out the dance for all they are worth. If this is going to be their last dance they are literally going to go out swinging, or at the very least tapping and jazz hands.

The audience, including most of the judges, are laughing and clapping when they finish. Katrina, of course, looks as sour as week-old milk.

“Perhaps not the most accomplished dance of the night, but certainly one of the most fun,” Ruadan says with a smile on his face. “For me, contestants like you are what this show is all about. You’ve certainly come out of your shell since this competition began, Arthur, and I really don’t think anyone works harder than you. You are a sportsman, not a performer, this is all completely new to you, and yet you are coming out every week and giving it your all. I’m sure you couldn’t imagine doing a dance like that ten weeks ago, let alone with such confidence and showmanship. It goes against all my instincts to say this, because it was far from perfect, but I really enjoyed it.”

Kilgharrah is actually laughing, it’s quite a scary sight. “Rather a unique interpretation of the brief, Merlin, but very fitting considering who was doing the dance. Not perhaps your best performance, but certainly not your worst. It was fun, it was light, and above all it was very entertaining, I’m sure the audience at home will love it.”

“Your footwork was sloppy, and the whole dance certainly didn’t do it for me.” Katrina has a predictable sneer on her face. “If you are going to do a dance like this, your timing has to be perfect, it has to be in time, and it certainly wasn’t in places. As Ruadan said, you are not a natural showman. I really wouldn’t give up the day job if I were you.”

“Well I loved it!" Finna says. "It was in keeping with the madcap Pythonesque style of the original show, I actually thought your timing was spot on, you compliment each other really well as dancers, you are very intune. Well done.”

That was about as good as they could have hoped for, they both knew it was never going to be top of the leaderboard, but hopefully it’s enough to get them through to next week. Their scores come in at 5, 8, 8, 8, giving them 29, which seems like a fairly solid score, even if it is quite a lot lower than last week. Unfortunately, the competition is getting so good by now that whereas a couple of weeks ago 29 would have seen them fairly high up the leaderboard, by the end of all the dances they are second from the bottom.

They all get changed and head back out onto the dancefloor for the Lindy-Hop-a-thon. It’s really hard to tell if this is going well or not, in the rehearsal he felt free to watch the other contestants a little, but now that the competition is on all he can concentrate on is doing the best that he can – he is a sportsman, afterall, as the judges keep telling him, and the need to win is in his blood.

By some miracle, there are no collisions in the Lindy Hop. He thinks he and Merlin do pretty well, they manages to get a couple of their lifts in and keep up with the pace the whole time. He really wishes they could have spent more time on this dance, even as Merlin actually manages to lift him him into the air and bounce his down again like he weighs nothing.

The judges scores come in. Elena and Tauren are bottom, just as they were in their Salsa. Mithian and ‘Cornelius’ are next, followed by Gwaine and Freya. Elyan and Helen come fourth, and Morgana and Leon come third, which means that Merlin and Arthur were better than them! They come second, which is so much better than they could have hoped for, leaving Gwen and Mordred at the top. 

Second in the Lindy-Hop-a-thon is pretty good, they have moved them up the leaderboard from sixth place to fourth. Gwen and Mordred are now in first place, having switched places with Leon and Morgana. Gwaine and Freya have moved down from third to fifth and Elyan has moved up to third. Mithian and Cedric have gone from fifth to sixth, and Elena and Tauren are still in seventh place. 

Hopefully this will be enough to keep them out of the dance off, Arthur’s pretty sure they have done more than their fair share of dance offs in this competition.

 

***

 

It is getting harder and harder seeing his friends get eliminated from the competition. This week the dance off is between Elena and Gwaine – and seeing Gwaine in the dance off is certainly a shock as he has been in the top four almost every show. Arthur finds himself watching from the sidelines with Gwen clutching his hand on one side and Merlin on the other. It’s stupid because it’s only been ten weeks, but he’s started to really think of these people as some of his closest friends and he can’t bear the thought of losing either Gwaine or Elena. He’d probably feel the same about any of the remaining couple at this stage, he doesn’t want any of them to go.

Of course, it’s not like he will never see or hear from them again. He’s finally got himself a new SIM card for his phone and only his friends have the number. Merlin has also managed to get him set up on their WhatsApp group and has even set them up with their own teammerthur twitter tag, which Arthur is still refusing to have anything to do with. He still hears from Lance and Percy and Annis, even Floridel, Mary and Isolde who went out in the first three weeks. Fortunately, Cenred seems to not actually be in the group, and Julius always thought he was rather too good for them.

Nevertheless, it’s hard to see Elena go, even though she must have known she was doomed the moment Gwaine’s name was called. She’s still clumsy, but she’s gained so much confidence since she started the show, and she likes to tell everyone that she is a graceful lady now. She told Arthur that yesterday just before she spilt coffee down his shirt.

Now they are down from fifteen couples to six, and the final is only a few weeks away and for the first time, it actually seems like something that could be possible.


	40. A Sofia in the Works

Finally, after ten weeks of begging to do a Jive, this is the week.

Merlin spent most of Sunday devising a new routine while Arthur lay around on the sofa and watched _Game of Thrones_ until Merlin came over in the evening. 

Yesterday, they started learning to Jive. And yes, everything Merlin said about it being hard work was true and this morning Arthur is already feeling the the burn in his leg muscles so he dreads to think what he will feel like by Saturday. Of course it is not as easy as it looks, if he has learnt one thing during this experience it is that nothing is as easy as it looks when the pros do it. _But_ he’s still pretty sure he loves the Jive – in fact, he’s really loving dancing and the whole _Strictly_ experience, but shush, don’t tell anyone he said that. 

It’s not only the quarter finals this week, it’s Musicals Week, which Arthur instantly hated the sound of. He’s never been a fan of musicals, and he’d never actually been to see one before last week. He was worried he’d have to dance to Oliver or Grease or one of the other drippy movies Morgana had loved when they were teenagers. He doesn’t see why they couldn’t have done last week’s dance this week, because it feels rather like he’s been stuck with musicals two weeks running.

However, Merlin has a Jive planned to _Footloose_ , and he hasn’t seen that film in years but he thinks he quiet liked it. The routine is fast and fun and will apparently mean they get to wear cowboy hats – and that fact alone really was enough to persuade Arthur.

When they get to the dance studio on Tuesday morning, however, a very unpleasant sight is waiting for them.

Practising her Jive steps to their music, if not their routine, is Sofia.

“What are you doing here?” Arthur knows his father would have told him off for being rude, but seriously, what the hell is she doing here?

“Arthur, darling, good news! My ankle is better, I am fit to go back to dancing!” She smiles at them and it sends a shiver down his spine.

“No.” Arthur takes a step back, shaking his head. 

“What do you mean, ‘no’? I am your dance partner, Arthur.” She laughs a tinkly little laugh that is no doubt supposed to sound pretty and attractive but actually just grates on his nerves.

Merlin makes a derisive snort. “You only want to be his partner when it suits you.” 

“And what is that supposed to mean?” She rounds on Merlin, hands on hips.

“You can’t just pick and choose when you want to dance with him. There was never anything wrong with your ankle, Sofia, I know that, he knows that, everyone knows that.” Merlin folds his arms across his chest, his jaw taking on a stubborn tilt that Arthur is already familiar with. “You didn’t want to go out of the competition early so you faked an injury, and now that we’ve done all the hard work and Arthur is doing really well and we have reached the quarter finals you want back in.” 

“How dare you!” Sofia is only about five foot two, and yet it feels like she fills the room as she stalks towards them and both men take a step back. “I have a doctor’s note to prove I was injured and that I am now cleared to dance!”

“Yes, and how many doctors did you have to flirt with to get that?” Merlin sneers. “I know you, Sof, I know exactly what you are like. There is nothing you wouldn’t stoop to to get your own way.”

“I don’t care, I’m not dancing with her,” Arthur cuts in. 

Sofia glares at them. “You do not have a choice, neither of you do! He,” she points at Merlin with those long sharp fingernails Arthur remembers digging into him from the Foxtrot, “was out of the competition in week one! And you,” the talon moves in Arthur’s direction, “will dance with who you are told!”

“I won’t.” Arthur shakes his head for emphasis. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think we were a good match. I’ve been getting on much better dancing with Merlin.”

Merlin has his phone out and is talking to someone Arthur assumes is in charge. “We had no notice or anything, I spent all day Sunday devising a routine, all day yesterday teaching it to Arthur. I’d have spent both days in bed if I’d realised Sofia would be back. What? Are you serious? No! She can’t have my routine! I didn’t devise it for her. Yes, I know that, but that is not the point, it won’t work with her, the whole concept is based around two male dancers. No. No, he doesn’t want to dance with her. Ok.” He hands the phone to Arthur. “Alice wants to talk to you.”

“Hello?”

“Arthur? It’s Alice, Head of Production here. What seems to be the problem?” Like Merlin hasn’t just told her exactly what their five-foot-two strawberry-blonde problem is. 

“Apparently I am expected to switch partners again, Alice, this really is not good enough.”

“But surely it’s only switching back to your original partner, it’s not like you are to have a third new person. I don’t see the problem.”

Arthur glances at Sofia. “I can’t dance with her. I’m used to dancing with Merlin now. It’ll be too disruptive.”

“Arthur, she is supposed to be your dance partner, not Merlin. Merlin was only ever the stand-in.”

“The only reason we have come this far in the competition is Merlin! He’s the one who got me to dance, he’s the one who devised all the routines, and he’s the one who gave me confidence. I haven’t danced with Sofia since week three, and we never got on.”

“I’m sorry, Arthur, but the rules are the rules. Sofia is your partner, technically, Merlin has already been eliminated from the competition. You can’t pick and choose.”

“Can’t pick and choose? Sofia did! Come on, Alice, you know as well as anyone that there was never anything wrong with her. She didn’t want to dance with me, and now we are in the quarter finals she’s changed her mind.”

“I’m sorry, but there is no proof of that.”

“Fine, then I refuse to dance with her. I’ll drop out of the competition.”

“You have a contract, Arthur. You are obligated to at least dance on Saturday, even if you get knocked out, otherwise you will mess our numbers up.”

“Then let me dance with Merlin.”

“No. You will dance on Saturday with your official partner, Merlin will show you both the routine.”

“But—”

“That is all.” She hangs up on him.

Arthur looks up to see a look of resignation on Merlin’s face. 

“So, show me this little routine of yours.” There is a triumphant smirk on Sofia’s face. “I’m sure I can make it better so it fits a man and woman as it should be rather than two men.”

The look Merlin sends her is positively murderous. Arthur puts his hand on Merlin’s arm and shakes his head. Getting into a fight with her is not worth it, she is too good at getting her own way.

All hopes of getting to the semi-final, let alone the final, are gone. And suddenly Arthur doesn’t even care, he only wanted to dance with Merlin, but apparently that is too much to ask. Just let him get out of this competition as fast as possible.


	41. Pain

Pain.

So much pain. 

The last time he felt pain like this was that match against Liverpool, the one that that turned out to be probably be the last time he’ll ever play professional football. 

He should have said something earlier, when it first started to twinge, even more so when it started to hurt. He definitely should have mentioned it before his knee just gave way beneath him and left him lying on the floor trying not to cry.

And the thing is, if Merlin had been there he would have said something. Hell, if Merlin had been there, he wouldn’t have had to. But Merlin is not here, having been dismissed by Sofia earlier for ‘being annoying’ and ‘wasting time’. 

He’d forgotten quite what a slave driver Sofia is. Merlin always worked him hard, but he also knew when to let Arthur take a break or when he had to make changes to a routine. Sofia never did that, if anything she likes to make a routine as hard as possible, and she has already made numerous changes to Merlin’s choreography making the kicks and flicks harder, faster and more. He’s almost inclined to think she’s deliberately made more of the flicks on his left leg just because that’s the one that hurts.

Sofia is tapping her foot next to him and telling him to get up and stop being a baby. The thing is, for all that she is pretty and petite and outwardly harmless, he is a little scared of her. He saw her get into an argument with Elena once, in the early days before they were even assigned partners. Tall, clumsy, gentle Elena, who had tripped and crashed into Sofia. Sofia had torn strips off her, and then somehow turned on the waterworks so every came over to comfort her whilst poor Ellie had been left there wondering what she’d done. Because bringing other people down and then playing the victim to get her own way is what Sofia does best.

So basically, Arthur didn’t say he needed to take a break, he didn’t say he couldn’t handle the changes to the routine, he didn’t say he was in pain, and now he’s paying for it. It is basically all his own fault, and he’s cursing himself for being an idiot, but please please don’t let him have torn a ligament again. 

This knee was supposed to be healed… and now of course worst case scenarios are stampeding through his head. What if he’s torn something? What if he’s damaged the cartilage? What if he needs an operation? He could barely walk for months last time.

“Get up, we do not have time to waste while you lie around on the floor.” Sofia is standing over him now, hands on her hips, eyes narrowed. “I know your game, you still think you can get out of doing any work. You have not changed at all.”

“I am in pain here! I need to see my doctor.”

“There is nothing wrong with you!” Which is a bit rich coming from the woman who faked having sprained ankle and then milked it for all she was worth.

Arthur pulls himself across the floor and digs his phone out of his coat pocket to call a taxi. There is no way he can drive himself to the hospital. Next he calls Merlin because it doesn’t look like Sofia will be helping him.

Fortunately, Merlin is still sulking in the café down the road so he arrives back at the studio within minutes. 

Even though his knee is still hurting badly, everything suddenly gains a little perspective the moment Merlin walks through the door. 

“What have you done to him? I left him with you for less than an hour!” Merlin says to Sofia.

“There is nothing wrong with him! If anything he is doing what you accused me of and pretending to be injured to get out of dancing.”

“He has an existing knee injury! You are supposed to know that, you are supposed to be looking out for him. Come on, Arthur.” 

Merlin gives Arthur his coat before he hoists him up off the floor, supporting his weight and carrying Arthur’s gym bag as he helps him hobble to the door.

“Where do you think you are going?” Sofia looks outraged that they are leaving. “We have to practise!”

“A+E.” Merlin growls out, and Arthur is sure he can feel the anger spiking off him as they leave. 

The taxi is already there when they make it outside. Merlin helps Arthur into the back seat and then climbs in the otherside. Before the car can move, Sofia gets into the front passenger seat and sits there with her arms folded. 

He sees a nurse then a doctor, then he goes for an MRI before being referred to a physio. The good news is, it doesn’t look like he’s done much damage, he hasn’t re-torn the same ligament and he was probably panicking more than anything, remembering how it had been last time. They tell him to rest up and stay off his knee, and go and see the specialist who was already looking after him.

Of course he can’t rest – he has come too far in this competition to give up now, especially with Sofia standing there with her arms folded and a look on her face that says she knew he was being a drama queen. 

They strap his knee up in and send him away with lots of advice which he will probably ignore even as he swears he won’t. Merlin hovers beside him the whole time, which probably means Arthur will actually be paying more heed to the doctor’s advice than he wants to.

“Are you happy now?” Merlin says once Arthur is discharged.

Arthur blinks at the accusatory tone in Merlin’s voice, but then he realises Merlin is not talking to him but is instead glaring at Sofia. 

“You are blaming me?” She looks outraged at the very idea. “It is not my fault if he did the move incorrectly. Anyway, you heard the doctor, it is not serious, he was just making a fuss about nothing. Tomorrow we will be back to practice.”

“Tomorrow he is spending the day in bed and resting that knee like he was told to,” Merlin tells her. “And yes, I can blame you, you are supposed to be the professional, you were supposed to be making sure he did not end up in here.”

“You will not blame me for this. If anything it was your fault, you devised a bad routine, you showed him how to do the steps.”

“You have changed my routine completely and put too much strain on his left knee. I will be reporting this to the production company.”

Sofia moves right up close to Merlin. “If you try to blame this on me, little man, I will make you pay.” She turns on her heel and flounces out of the cubicle.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” Merlin helps Arthur up off the bed.

“I still need to rehearse, Merlin.” Arthur says as he hobbles out to the taxi rank. “I know I promised to rest, but I’m supposed to be Jiving on telly in three days.”

“Listen to me.” Merlin cups the side of Arthur’s face and fixes him with an intense look. “The competition is not important. And I’m not just saying that because Sofia is back. The competition is not important, you are. You are the most important thing that ever happened to me, and I am not going to jeopardise your well being for a stupid competition, alright?” 

Arthur nods, a sudden lump in his throat making him unable to speak. 

Merlin is the most important thing to him too.


	42. Footloose – The Jive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week Arthur and Sofia are dancing the Jive to _Footloose_ by Kenny Loggins from the musical and film of the same name.
> 
> <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wFWDGTVYqE8>
> 
> * * *

By friday, his knee is still sore, but actually feeling a lot better – Arthur’s sort of feeling a little silly for the fuss he made. He’s pretty sure the trip to A+E was unnecessary, but the memory of the pain he went through last time had been enough to make him panic. 

He took Thursday off as instructed, although Merlin did insist on making him watch both film versions of _Footloose_ as he couldn’t make it to the theatre.

Yesterday he saw Dr Disir, his specialist, who said he’s clear to dance tonight so long as he doesn’t overdo it. He didn’t tell her that could be easier said than done as both his dance partner and the Jive itself do not lend themselves to taking it easy.

After that, he made it into Elstree for a costume fitting and a runthrough of the dance. Of course, Sofia has changed the outfits, much to the ire of the overstretched costume department who had already made the sequined lumberjack shirts, rhinestone jeans and cowboy hats Merlin had requested. Instead he is wearing a maroon jacket and tie like he remembers Kevin Bacon wearing in the movie and Sofia is in a ghastly pink 1980s-style prom dress.

They attempted to do the routine on the main dance floor and it was a disaster – Arthur was afraid to try the kicks and he kept getting confused as to the routine because it’s been changed so many times since Monday which basically meant Sofia spent a lot of time shouting at him for doing Merlin’s routine instead of hers. 

After that, it was their turn for _It Takes Two_ , which he hadn’t even realised he’d missed on Wednesday, and by the end of the day Arthur was more exhausted than if he’d spent a full day training on the football field.

So, by this morning Arthur is honestly at the stage where he just doesn’t care anymore. He’ll actually be quite glad to dance badly and leave the competition tonight so he can go home and sleep for a thousand years, hopefully with Merlin beside him.

The dress rehearsal goes about as well as yesterday. Arthur and Sofia are first in, because she really doesn’t get the concept of him resting. It turns out to be a good thing though, because there aren’t too many others around to watch the horror show that is their Jive.

After that they go and find a quiet room to carry on practising so she can harangue him some more. She has refused to change the routine, even a little bit, so he keeps having to repeat the same moves that made his knee flare up.

“What the hell was that?” Sofia starts yelling when he pulls up short on the flicks again. “Why did you do it like that? You have to kick out first from the hip, then from the knee, how many more times do I have to tell you?”

“Because it fucking hurts me to do that, ok?” He’s fighting the urge to rub his knee. Whilst it’s not hurting like it was on Wednesday, it is still sore and she’s been pushing him.

“You weren’t even trying. And you keep trying to do Merlin’s steps, don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“But that’s the routine, that’s how we were doing it before!”

“No, do you remember nothing? We are not doing it like before, we are not doing Merlin’s silly routine, it looks like an amateur line dancing class. I changed that part yesterday. You need to kick out to the side for two and then lift me and flip me, do you remember nothing?”

“Please can we stop changing things? It’s hard enough remembering the original routine without constantly changing it.” He tries not to limp as he goes over to sit down. He could do with a quick break and an ice pack, and maybe a nice cup of tea.

“A professional dancer would be able to cope with a changing routine. Where do you think you are going?”

Arthur ignores her, not even bothering to point out that he is not a professional dancer, as he lowers himself into a chair and closes his eyes, hoping a few breathing exercises will help. What he really needs is a cold pack to put on his knee for a few minutes and maybe just a short break from both dancing and Sofia.

“Will you get up and stop wasting time? We have to do this dance tonight.”

“Just give me a minute, will you? I’m injured here, remember?”

“Merlin has been too soft with you. There is nothing wrong with you, the doctor said so.”

“The doctor said to rest my knee.”

“I—”

“Miss Shevchenko, a word if you will.” 

Kilgharrah has somehow materialised into the room and is looking for all the world like he’s about to eat Sofia. Merlin is standing by the door smirking.

“What is it, Kilgharrah? I don’t have time, I have to teach this useless lump to Jive before tonight.” She folds her arms and somehow attempts to glare Kilgharrah down, which is either brave or stupid.

“I’m sure young Merlin here can take over Arthur’s training.” Kilgharrah gestures Merlin forward.

“Him? _He_ is half the problem. If he hadn’t been teaching everything wrong in the first place and letting _that one_ slack off, my job would not be so hard.”

“Miss Shevchenko, we can stand around here and discuss bullying if you want, but I think you might prefer we didn’t. If you would be so good as to come up to Alice’s office with me. Now.” Kilgharrah stands to one side and gestures for Sofia to go ahead. The smile he gives Arthur and Merlin as he leaves makes Arthur wonder if he really is going to eat Sofia. 

“Nice costume,” Merlin says once Kilgharrah and Sofia have left. He is currently making the Cheshire Cat look like someone who didn’t smile much.

“Great, isn’t it?” Arthur looks down at himself and wrinkles his nose. “I was promised a cowboy hat.”

Merlin laughs. “Well, you can wear that if you want, it is in-keeping with the musical afterall, but I’m getting changed into my proper costume.”

Arthur frowns. Is Merlin suggesting what he thinks he’s suggesting or is Arthur just getting his hopes up? “What’s happening with Sofia?”

If possible, Merlin’s smirk gets even bigger. “Well, let’s just say that _someone_ might have spoken to Kilgharrah and Alice about bullying in the workplace and negligence resulting in an injured celebrity. And then of course, another _someone_ – the very pedantic George from PR – just might have shown them some of the Twitter feed after your appearance on _It Takes Two_ last night.” Seriously, if Merlin’s grin gets any bigger he’ll probably need a licence for it.

“What is wrong with the Twitter?” A cold feeling of dread washes over him; he really hates Twitter. What have people been saying now? Why can’t they just leave him be, he doesn’t want to be the subject of gossip, any kind of gossip.

Merlin shrugs. “Hashtag TeamMerthur has quite the following – our fans were not happy about the reappearance of Sofia. And then of course there is the diversity angle – by having two men dancing the BBC inadvertently improved their ratings, and by taking that away again they have upset a lot of people. If there are two things TV Production Companies care about, it is audience ratings and public profile.”

“So… I don’t have to dance with Sofia anymore?” Please. Please please please.

“Nope.” Merlin is practically bouncing. “I don’t know what excuse they are going to make, but basically you are stuck dancing with me tonight, so we’d better go and find a quiet room to practise in and knuckle down because we are live in about eight hours and we are really behind.”

“Can we go back to the original routine?”

“Yes, I think that might be best, if that is ok with you. We can try Sofia’s if you feel you know it better, I won’t take offence.”

“No,” Arthur shakes his head quickly. “I keep dancing the old steps and getting it all mixed up, that’s why she was yelling. And she has as many moves in to hurt my knee as possible, I swear. Can we keep it as simple?”

“Yes, the judges probably won’t like it but—”

“You!” Sofia is back, eyes flashing and her usually affectedly childish voice reduced to a hiss. She walks up to Merlin and pushes him backwards with more force than you would have thought possible for someone so tiny. “You have got me fired!”

Fired? He hadn't realised they were actually going to fire her!

“You did that yourself.” Merlin steadies himself but stays back from Sofia. Coward. “I never told you to pretend to be injured, or to bully people. If the audience complained about you, that is down to you, I never told them to – they objected to you all on their own.”

“The public have never disliked me in the past. I won, remember?” She tosses her hair back and raises her chin like she is defying anyone to not like her. “You did this, you went behind my back.”

“Well maybe they’ve finally seen you for who you are.” This is a ruthless side to Merlin that Arthur hasn’t seen before, and damn it all if he’s not a little turned on by it.

“You will pay for this, Merlin.” She turns to Arthur. “And your pretty little boy toy here. You will both pay.” She spins around and walks out, slamming the door behind her.

“OK, good, lovely, looking forward to it,” Merlin calls after her. He turns back to Arthur, still grinning like a madman. “We’d better get practising.” 

Arthur nods and pulls himself to his feet, pulling off the jacket and tie from his costume. In two hours time he can take some more painkillers, bring it on. “Ok, let’s go.”

“You do realise we could well be in the dance off tonight, don’t you?” Merlin says, looking serious at last. “I mean, we haven’t got much practice in at all this week, and Sofia confused everything, and you are still injured so we have to be careful. This is the quarter finals, we really needed to be on our A-Game tonight.”

“Not like you to be such a pessimist, Merlin.” Arthur attempts an encouraging smile.

“I’m not, I’m just trying to be realistic. I want you to be prepare to have to do this twice.”

“Hey. If this is our last dance then this is our last dance. I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather be in the dance off with. This has been a blast.”

Merlin grins. “The feeling is mutual, Clotpole. Come on, let’s get practising then, we can at least try not to embarrass ourselves too badly.”

 

***

 

If they are not ready now then they never will be. And no, they are definitely not ready now. They are fifth to dance tonight, giving Arthur chance to rest his knee, which is good because they’ve just been trying to squeeze four-days-worth of practice into a few hours. Merlin has pared the dance down even further than it was originally to allow for both the lack of rehearsal and Arthur’s knee, and they both know the judges will not be happy about it.

“I’d rather risk the wrath of Katrina than risk you doing further damage to yourself,” was Merlin’s opinion, and he wouldn’t be swayed.

They are in their original costumes – fortunately they had already been made before Sofia demanded they change them, which is just as well because he doesn’t think Sofia’s dress would have fitted Merlin. Arthur is dosed up on ibuprofen and is as ready as he’ll ever be.

The routine is mostly based around the dance at the end of the film/musical where everyone is showing off their dance moves. There is, as Sofia had complained about, a slight line-dance vibe to it, although it is still very much a Jive, and because it is the quarter finals they have a few backing dancers doing tricks and flips behind them to make it look more like a proper American-style Prom, and hopefully take some of the attention off Arthur. 

The dance is not great, which is disappointing because he’s been looking forward to the Jive so much, but he doesn’t think he completely disgraces himself all things considered. 

Finna and Kilgharrah are both nice, of course. They tell him he has done well, considering all the problems of the week and that he should be proud of himself. He can read between the lines to ‘that was not great, but never mind’. Ruadan does tell them the routine was too simple for the quarter finals, but he does say he understands why. Katrina is Katrina – Arthur suspects he could have come out and given them the best Jive in the history of _Strictly_ and she’d still have found fault. She tells him his footwork was sloppy, his kicks weren’t high enough or sharp enough, they weren’t in sync – all things they know, but couldn’t help.

To his embarrassment, Merlin has to help him up the stairs to go and talk to Vivian as they wait for their results. Despite what Katrina might think, he’d given that dance his all and now he is paying for it. Dr Disir is not going to be happy with him.

When they get to the top, the other dancers all clap him and he stands and waits for the results with Merlin holding him up on one side and Gwaine on the other. He feels like a bit of a prat, and really hopes the pain doesn’t show on his face. Unsurprisingly, they get 4, 7, 6, 7, giving them a total of only 24, the lowest score by five marks, with Mithian and Cornelius getting 30 for their American Smooth and Gwen and Mordred getting another 40 for their Couple’s Choice and everyone else getting scores in the mid to high thirties.

Once the cameras are off them, they go backstage and Arthur gets to sit down with an icepack on his knee. Hopefully he can just get through the dance off and after that he will be able to sit on the sofa and rest his knee to his heart’s content because there is no way they are winning this. And he will be sad to get knocked out of the competition, particularly now he is back dancing with Merlin, but really, the quarter finals are further than he ever thought he would get and he’s quite proud of himself. 

The ice helps a lot, even though Merlin then insists on warming up again, and by the time they are taking their positions for the results show he thinks he’ll be ok to repeat the dance – he’s both mentally and physically prepared for this. If it’s going to be his last dance then he’s going out in style. 

And then Gaius says, “The first couple through to the semi finals is…” and Arthur looks around wondering who will be first through and who will be with them in the dance off and he almost misses Gaius saying, “Arthur and Merlin!”

Merlin nudges him in the ribs as he looks about wide eyed thinking surely Gaius made a mistake? Or were they announcing the first couple in the dance off?

“Thank you!” Merlin says to the camera as the light goes out above them whilst Arthur just stands there, mouth hanging open in shock. 

Bloody hell, they got through? How on earth did they manage that? Without trying to be negative, they were rubbish! In a way he feels almost deflated, he’d been so ready to do the dance again that it hadn’t occurred to him that they might get through.

Gwen and Mordred get through next, no surprise there as they were top of the leaderboard again with 40 for their Contemporary Couple’s Choice. And then the first couple in the dance off is Mithian and Cornelius, which is also not really a surprise because they are who Arthur had assumed they would be dancing against going by the leaderboard. 

But this means someone who was good will be in the dance off, Elyan was next and he scored 35 for his Quickstep, and then Gwaine who was third with 36 for the Viennese Waltz and Leon and Morgana who scored 39 for the Paso. And Arthur is feeling guilty because they don’t deserve that – he should be in the bottom two, he should be going home. He knows he must have got the sympathy vote, and that does not sit well with him.

Elyan and Helen are next through, and for a moment he thinks his sister will be in the dance off, but the red light falls on Gwaine and Freya.

Of course, Gwaine wins, he should never have been in the dance off at all. Arthur hates to see Mithian go home, just missing out on the semi final. She’s been one of the people he’s closest to in this competition, although all of the remaining contestants are people he hopes are now friends for life.

He is glad to get one more week to dance with Merlin – he’s under no illusions about getting to the final – and he’s delighted that, knee permitting, he will get the chance to Charleston. He just feels guilty; it should have been him going out this week, not Mithian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh come on, you didn't really believe I would make him dance with Sofia, did you? You all know me better than that.


	43. Sunday Morning

Even though Merlin keeps saying he should go into the studio and make a start on next week’s routine, they are currently having a lazy sunday morning lying in bed.

“What does it mean?” Merlin asks as he traces the runes running up Arthur’s forearm.

“Throw me away,” Arthur says, stretching his arm out. 

“That’s… a bit negative?”

Arthur sits up and shows Merlin both sides of his arm. “Pick me up, throw me away. It’s supposed to be the inscription on Excalibur.”

“Ok.” Merlin frowns. “Still, it is a bit… sad.”

Arthur shrugs. “I was twenty-one, I’d had yet another fall out with my father, and I guess I thought I was being philosophical and ironic all at the same time.”

Merlin, being the soppy git that he is, kisses the tattoo. “I’m not going to throw you away, you know that, right?”

“Hmm.” Arthur leans up to kiss him properly. “You’d better not.”

Merlin sighs and breaks the kiss. “I have two routines to choreograph today,” he says, resting his forehead against Arthur’s chest. “I really should get going.” He still makes no move to actually do so.

“You could just stay here with me.” Arthur wraps his arms around him.

Merlin snorts. “I don’t think we’ll get through by winging it two weeks in a row.” He pulls away and presses a quick kiss to Arthur’s mouth. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Want me to come and lend a hand?”

“Your idea of ‘lending a hand’ will not help me leave, prat. I’ll see you tonight. And rest that knee.”

Arthur mock-sighs and throws himself back against the pillows. 

He hears the shower turn on and debates going and joining Merlin anyway but his phone rings so he reaches for that instead.

“Arthur?” Elyan’s voice sounds a little strained.

“Hi El, what’s up?”

“Have you seen the papers yet today?” Elyan asks. A voice in the background that Arthur assumes is Mithian says ‘Of course he hasn’t seen them!’

Arthur sits up. “Why? What’s happened?”

“Um… look, I’m sorry, Arthur, it’s Sofia. The front page of _The Sun_ is calling you a love cheat, with a big story about how you two-timed her with Merlin and then when she found out you got her sacked.” Again, he can hear Mithian telling Elyan not to just blurt it out like that.

Arthur gets out of bed and goes over to switch his laptop on. “I was never in a relationship with Sofia!” he says as he waits for it to switch on. “Even if girls were my thing, I wouldn’t touch her with a ten-foot pole!”

“I know, mate. It’s all a massive steaming pile of bullshit, but she has effectively outed your relationship with Merlin whilst making herself look the victim.”

“Bloody hell, she’s a fast worker, they only fired her yesterday.”

“I’m sorry, mate, I just thought you should know in case the press were waiting on your doorstep again.”

“Yeah, thanks Elyan.” He breaks the golden rule of celebrity and does a Google search on his own name, always a mistake. The headlines on both _The Sun_ and various other sites come up straight away. “Oh bloody hell.”

“What’s going on?” Merlin comes back into the bedroom, still wet from the shower and it says a lot that Arthur can’t even find the time to appreciate wet Merlin in a towel.

“Is that Merlin?” Elyan says. “Whatever you do, don’t let them get pictures of him leaving your flat this morning, they don’t need more fuel for the fire. You both need to keep a low profile.”

Arthur pushes the laptop over for Merlin to see.

“Thanks for the heads-up, El,” he says into the phone. 

Merlin has to sneak out of the fire escape, a trick Arthur perfected last time the press decided to camp out outside his flat. 

His phone doesn’t stop ringing all morning, first Gwen, then Pel and Beddy and a couple of his other teammates, then Leon. Morgana clearly doesn’t wake up till gone ten because she doesn’t ring till a little later.

Fortunately his new mobile number is still fairly private, so only people he actually likes can call him. He makes sure the landline is unplugged and decides to have a bath and pretend nothing is happening.

Merlin stays away, he would probably only get caught if he tried to sneak back in, so Arthur has the whole day to wallow in self-pity. He doesn’t even have an agent or a parent he can go to for advice.

He tries not read all the articles that keep popping up, he really does. Some are supportive and a lot are vile.

This is why he swore off social media in the first place. 

He closes all the tabs and switches off the computer.

Tomorrow he has to face the world. Tonight, he could really do with Merlin being here.


	44. Guess I'm A Clotpole

It’s official, Arthur Pendragon is an idiot. A complete and total clotpole, and a prat and a dollophead and all the other creative insults Merlin has ever thrown at him, plus a few more besides that he just hasn’t thought of yet.

“So. We’ve given up on the not giving them a sound bite then?” Merlin switches off the engine and sits back.

“Shut up, Merlin.”

“Pleased as I am not to have to hide our relationship any more, it might have been nice to be included on the plan. I’d have put me best togs on for the photo op.” Merlin is ready for their usual warm-up routine, dressed in an ancient Aberystwyth Uni sweatshirt, an old pair of tracksuit bottoms, and the rattiest pair of trainers Arthur has ever seen.

“Merlin…”

“Of course, I’ll have to let me mam know, wouldn’t like her to read it in the papers.”

“Merlin!”

Merlin is sitting there with a big smirk on his face. “No, you’re right, Mum guessed it ages ago, there’s nothing to tell.”

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

Merlin shrugs, still smirking. “Am I not allowed a little fun? After the grief you gave me last time when _I_ opened my gob to the press?”

Arthur sighs. “I’m sorry, alright? If I had planned to say anything of course I would have talked to you first. He just annoyed me.”

The reporters had been waiting for them outside the dance studio. Merlin and Arthur had never even made it inside, goodness knows how they are going to get any training done this week. 

“It’s ok.” Merlin nudges him on the arm. “I’d have been repulsed if anyone thought _I’d_ slept with Sofia, it’s perfectly understandable.” 

They’d just kept on at him, had he cheated on Sofia with Merlin, was he gay, was there any truth in what Agravaine said, in what Cenred said, in what Sofia said, on and on. Because of course his uncle and that slimy toad of a politician had jumped on the bandwagon, and this morning the papers were full of more stories about him. Agravaine had dished the dirt on how he’d had to cover up stories of other men Arthur had slept with, how he was a terrible closet case, how his father was so disappointed, because what exactly is family loyalty anyway? Cenred told the press all about Arthur’s bust-up with Uther in lurid detail in a way that made Uther look even worse than he actually had been, but didn’t exactly paint Arthur in a good light either.

And Arthur had just snapped. ‘Is there any truth to Sofia’s claims?’ the journalist had asked for at least the millionth time. “Of course not, I have never had an affair with that woman,” Arthur had stated quite clearly. 

He’d been right weeks ago when he told Merlin not to speak to them. That one little statement didn’t make them go away, it just inspired more questions, the main one being – ‘does that mean you are in a relationship with Merlin?’

And Arthur didn’t have it in him to deny the best thing in his life, so that was the point Arthur had gone off into a tirade about privacy, and why was who he chose to sleep with even news when the country is falling down around us? Did politicians like Cenred have nothing better to do with their time? 

At which point Merlin had dragged him away, pulled Arthur’s car keys out of his hand and actually had the gall to drive Arthur’s car. No one but Arthur ever drives Arthur’s car, up until Merlin, it was the most important thing in his life.

“They are going to crucify me, aren’t they?” He looks out the passenger-side window at the carpark Merlin has taken them to. It feels weird being the passenger in his own car.

“Trust you to liken yourself to Jesus.”

“Can we try to be serious, just for a moment?” Arthur glares at Merlin, who continues to look unrepentant.

“Sorry.” 

“No.” Arthur sighs. “ _I’m_ sorry, you didn’t deserve any of this. What I’ve just done to you is no better than what Sofia did to me.”

“How exactly do you work that out?” Merlin raises an eyebrow in a way that makes him look scarily like Gaius. “Sofia lied about you and her being in a relationship, you didn’t do that because you and I actually are in a relationship. And she’d already told them that anyway.”

“Yes, but I confirmed it, and I still outed you without your permission, and that was unforgivable.”

“Arthur.” Merlin puts a gentle hand on his arm. “You clotpole, I was already out. And I don’t care who knows we’re together, I’m proud to call you my partner. I was waiting for you to be ready to tell people, but if it were up to me I’d have been shouting it from the rooftops by now.”

“Yes, but you never asked to be all over the papers like this. Are you seriously telling me you don’t regret the day you ever met me?”

“Never.”

Arthur stares down at his hands to hide a sudden wetness around the eyes, then changes the subject. “We’re not going to get any practice in again this week, you do realise that?”

“Hmm.” Merlin takes Arthur’s hand and laces their fingers together. “I tell you what, drive me back to my place, go home, pack a bag and meet me in half an hour.” He lets go and unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out of the driver’s seat. 

“Where are we going?” Arthur gets out too so they can swap seats.

Merlin grins. “How’s the knee?”

Arthur shrugs and flexes his knee. “Not too bad, why?” At least his little pity party yesterday meant he rested it.

“Think it’ll be ok to drive to Wales?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, Amy, I pinched your username for the chapter title!


	45. Camelot Sports Centre

They have been practising the Viennese Waltz for what feels like forever, in the backroom of Merlin’s Mum’s dance studio in Pontypridd; round and round in circles till Arthur thinks he might be ill. It’s a beautiful dance to a beautiful song, and of course, Merlin has done a wonderful job of the choreography in which Arthur is some sort of noble lord, and Merlin is the servant he is secretly in love with. There are relatively few steps to learn, which should be a good thing because they have two dances to learn this week, but Merlin seems to think that fewer steps mean Arthur has to get them absolutely perfect. Arthur, on the other hand, just wants to move past the Viennese Waltz so he can get more practice on the Charleston.

Arthur’s outburst to the press on Monday, coupled with his friends all closing ranks, has pretty much killed the story dead in the water. He’ll no doubt find himself the butt of a few jokes for a while, but for the most part the press have done as instructed and gone to report other things. 

The few reporters that did persist have found themselves on a wildgoose chase around town, one even getting sent as far as Merthyr Tydfil which the locals found hilarious, especially with Merthyr sounding so like Merthur – it would appear the townsfolk protect their own, and Merlin is one of their own so therefore Arthur is by association. And it really is even more clear than ever just how much everyone loves Merlin. There are _#Team Merthur_ posters in just about every window and they have been asked to switch on the Christmas lights in the town centre tomorrow night.

This evening they are taking a short break from rehearsal. There is a sports centre near Cardiff called The Camelot, where disabled kids are actively encouraged to take part in sports alongside the other children in the area. Merlin apparently helps run dance classes there when he’s not off on tour or taking part in _Strictly_ , so that is what he’s doing tonight.

Arthur watches Merlin’s class for a bit but is soon distracted by the sounds of a ball from further down the corridor. Going down to peer in the window he sees children playing what appears to be football on crutches.

Ewan, the curly-haired young man running the class who Merlin had introduced him to earlier, beckons him into the room and explains the rules, which mostly seem to consist of only being allowed to use one foot and balancing yourself on the crutches to do so. They find some adult-sized crutches and the kids teach Arthur how to play. 

“I organise an LGBTQ Football team on a Saturday,” Ewan says when the kids have gone (after several of them have asked for his autograph). “Some of them are really good. I think it would mean a lot to them if you could maybe come over some time and meet them? Give them a few pointers maybe?”

Arthur nods. “I’d love to. Obviously, I can’t this Saturday, and even if we don’t make it through to the _Strictly_ final, we are still supposed to go to it, but maybe a bit closer to Christmas?”

“That would be brilliant, thank you! They will be so excited.” Ewan is beaming. “And thanks so much for helping with the kids today, you were brilliant with them,I think you really made their week.”

“Having fun?” Merlin says as Arthur goes back to the dance room.

Arthur nods. “So much fun. This place is fantastic.”

“Feel up for a little bit of Charlestoning while with have the studio?”

The Charleston is the absolute best dance to date, and he really wishes it was the only dance they were doing this week so he could devote all of his time to it. As it is, Merlin has only let them do a basic run through and a few of the steps, preferring to concentrate on the Waltz first and give Arthur’s knee more time to heal. This evening, however, he has promised they will start on the Charleston properly.

It’s hard work, they knew it would be. Merlin has thrown just about every step he possibly can at the dance, and this one involves lifts too. 

By the time they go back to Merlin’s Mum’s for tea, they are both exhausted.

Merlin’s mum is not the best cook in the world, but somehow the food seems to taste better here than at all the fancy restaurants Arthur has ever eaten at. They eat chips in front of the telly and she tells him embarrassing stories about Merlin as a child, even breaking out photo albums when she sends Merlin out to wash the plates.

Arthur might be a little bit in love her. The first thing she did when they pulled up at her house on Monday was throw her arms around him and call him her darling boy. And Arthur, feeling slightly vulnerable and over-emotional, started crying. To be perfectly honest, he’s never felt so silly in his life, but no one’s ever called him that before.

He’s definitely going to have to make sure his relationship with Merlin lasts, because he wants to be part of this little family forever.


	46. The Semi Final

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week Arthur and Merlin are dancing the Viennese Waltz to _Love Love Love_ by Of Monsters and Men.
> 
> <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=beiPP_MGz6I>
> 
> And the Charleston to _That Man_ by Caro Emerald. 
> 
> <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CFA6dEwWOb4>
> 
> * * *

How have they managed to reach the semi finals of _Strictly Come Dancing_? In all seriousness, _how_? Arthur had been really quite sure he was going to be first out of the competition, he definitely wasn’t supposed to even get as far as Halloween. And then, when he started actually learning to dance and discovered he was even worse at it that he thought he would be, well. And now he’s somehow, probably through sheer luck, in the semi final.

They have been in the dance off more than any other couple this year, and somehow they are still going, whilst people like Lance, who was actually good at this, went home weeks ago. 

The possibility of making it as far as the final has never really been on the cards for Arthur, it just seemed to far off and such a ridiculous concept that he always just assumed he would be long gone by now. As it is, he is still spending his Saturdays preparing for the live show rather than either playing or watching football, and he’s barely even missed it.

But now, with the final five contestants – Gwen, Leon, Gwaine and Elyan – sitting in costume in the green room at various levels of nervousness, and suddenly the final seems within grasping distance. He’s trying not to get his hopes up, he’s still the weakest dancer here, the only one apart from Gwaine to have been in the dance off at all, and he is suffering no delusions about lifting the Glitterball Trophy, but just one more week of dancing with Merlin would make him happy.

Gwen is brilliant, there is no way she will not make the final and she is who Arthur wants to win, even though that makes him feel disloyal to Morgana. Leon and Morgana are also good, however, and he knows how hard his sister has worked for this, she really does deserve to win for once. Gwaine is more hit or miss. He’s better at fun dances, but he is usually in the top three regardless, but for some reason he has been in the dance off for the last two weeks running. Elyan, on the other hand, is really good at Latin dances, but no so much at classic Ballroom. The press seem to want the final four to be Arthur and Merlin, Leon and Morgana, Gwen and Mordred, and Elyan and Helen, they are already pitching it as the big sibling rivalry final, which makes Arthur feel rather sorry for Gwaine who really deserves to get through. 

But fair or not fair, just one more week… He knows logically there is no reason to assume that Merlin will not want to keep seeing him when the show is over, but what if he does? What if it is only all this forced proximity that is bringing them together and they will suddenly discover they have absolutely nothing in common? What if Merlin realises he can do so much better? What if this was actually all just a publicity stunt to get to the final?

“Arthur?” George from PR thankfully pulls him out of his self-doubt before it can spiral too far. “I wondered if you’d seen this on Instagram?” He is waving an iPad around.

“I don’t really know if I want—” Arthur starts, but then George thrusts the ipad into his hand. 

There is a picture of his team, or at least most of them, obviously Valiant and his cronies aren’t there. It looks like it was taken before last night’s match because they are in their away kit. Pel, Beddy, Galahad and Owain are holding a banner saying ‘Good Luck on Saturday Arthur and Merlin’. 

It takes him a moment to notice, but as he zooms in he sees that every single one of them is wearing rainbow laces in his football boots and Pel is wearing a rainbow captain’s armband as part of the Stonewall campaign to tackle homophobia in football. They are wearing them for him.

Arthur stares at the picture and the harder he tries to push away the lump in his throat the worse it gets and he has to hand the ipad back to George so he can surreptitiously wipe the tears from his eye. Of all his teammates, only Pelinor had known about Arthur’s preferences, because really that man is far too perceptive for a football player. He’d spent so long thinking they wouldn’t accept him, and here they are, proving him wrong in the best way possible.

“Ten minutes to air,” Daegal calls out, running through with his clipboard to check where everyone is. “Where’s Merlin?”

“Here, I’m here!” Where as Arthur is dressed like some sort of noble or king for their Viennese Waltz, Merlin is dressed in servant’s livery in red and gold, and for some reason the costume department seem to have decided he needs a big feathered hat. Arthur can’t help it, he takes one look at Merlin and starts laughing.

“What on earth is that supposed to be?”

“Ceremonial dress, apparently. To be honest, I think they just wanted to reuse the feathers from Mithian’s Samba headdress.”

“You can’t possibly dance in that! It’s supposed to be a slow, romantic, beautiful dance, and you look like a dollophead.”

“Hey, I’m not the dollophead around here, you are!”

“Fine, go out there wearing that then, I think you should wear it all the time actually.”

“I’ll just wear it out there, I won’t dance in it, I wouldn’t be able to see where I was going.”

“Well, as long as you don’t fall down the stairs.”

If anything, Merlin’s ridiculous hat seems to have brightened everyone up as they all make their way down to the studio. The competition finally seems to have got real, and the camaraderie of previous weeks had gone from the green room. Everyone was sitting around looking serious and jittery and trying to remember steps, but now they are all united in trying on the hat and laughing. Arthur suspects that might have been Merlin’s plan all along.

Morgana and Leon are up first, performing a Contemporary Couple’s Choice, which looks really good to Arthur, but which the judges seem rather divided on, only getting them 32 points. They both look upset and he can’t blame them; everyone is working so hard for perfection now.

Next up are Gwen and Mordred with the Rumba. It’s probably one of the best Rumbas he’s seen so far, but it’s still a Rumba and he really hopes it doesn’t go against them because the public seems to hate the Rumba as much as he does – he knows someone has to go home tonight, he knows that he and Merlin are the bookies favourites to do so, but Gwen is just so nice and such a good dancer, it definitely shouldn’t be them! They end up getting 33 – the judges are being hard tonight. 

Elyan and Helen do the Cha Cha Cha, which would be bad for most of them but Elyan is really good at the Latin dances. Even so, he only scrapes through with 32, which is a brilliant score, but with the final in their sights everyone is hoping for tens and no one has managed them yet. 

Arthur and Merlin are fourth out with their Viennese Waltz, in which Arthur’s noble lord is in love with his servant. They start out apart, two people from separate worlds, he notices Merlin, how could he miss him in that hat? They dance towards each other, Merlin loses the hat, they move into hold. The dance mostly consists of twirling to the words love love love. He thinks it goes well, he gets his heel turns in, the fleckerl seems to be ok, the natural turns, the contra check… ok, maybe the reverse turn could have gone better, but it’s not bad. There are few steps in the Viennese, but ideally they have to be perfect, or as close to perfect as they can be with only half a week to train. Even Katrina finds it hard to criticise much, although of course she picks up on that reverse turn. They end up with an 8 and three 9s, which they are really happy with and for the moment it actually puts them top of the leaderboard!

Of course, Gwaine and Helen soon put pay to Arthur and Merlin being top. Their American Smooth to _Me and My Shadow_ is almost faultless (although of course Katrina does find fault) resulting in the first tens of the night and a score of 39.

But the evening is not over, they all have to do two dances, which is a big part of why everyone looks so exhausted tonight. 

Leon and Morgana redeem themselves with a beautiful Waltz which earns them 38 points. The thing is, for all that Morgana hasn’t been that nice to him over the years, for all that she believed every bad thing the papers ever said, she is still his sister, dancing is her life, and she is unbelievably good at it and if he is honest, Arthur wants her to win. It helps that Leon is a pretty good bloke too and is probably the only person here Arthur actually considered a friend before the competition began.

Elyan and Helen are up next with another American Smooth, and unfortunately for them it is now in direct comparison with Gwaine’s. It’s not that Elyan’s dance isn’t good, but it’s not anything like _as_ good as the previous one. They receive 29 points, and Arthur wishes it had been more. Elyan has been a good friend to Arthur recently, he wants him to get through too.

Gwen and Mordred dance the Quickstep to _If My Friends Could See Me Now_ , and it is the first dance of the night to receive 40 points which they absolutely deserve. 

Then finally, here it is, the Charleston. Arthur happens to know that Merlin changed the music for this one after the events of last weekend. The concept is that Arthur is a 1920s Chicago detective and Merlin is the criminal he’s trying to catch, the twist being that they fancies the pants off each other – they decided that as they have nothing left to hide, why not play on the fact that everyone knows they are a couple. 

Merlin has made it quite a technically complicated dance to make up for the Jive last week, but it is also possibly the most fun Arthur has had with any of the dances. They start off with Arthur sitting at his desk hearing a noise and going to investigate, meanwhile Merlin is circling around behind him till they end up reversing into each other when Arthur has to do a complicated roll that flips him over Merlin’s back and then they get to put in some of their Lindy Hop steps for ‘twisting round on a carousel’ as they spin around. From there it goes into a slapstick Charleston routine with as many swivels, flappy birds and comic faces and as possible, with a few lifts and near kisses thrown in for good measure. Arthur gives it everything he possibly can, this is probably his last chance to dance on this show, apart from the actual dance off, and he’s going out fighting.

The audience love it, nearly everyone is on their feet clapping and cheering, including three of the judges. Katrina proclaims that Arthur’s left foot did not swivel and gives them a nine. They get three tens from the other judges and Arthur thinks he might have pulled a muscle in his face he is grinning so hard. Even if they go home right this second, they just scored 39 out of 40 and he knows they’ll be going home happy that they did their best.

Last up are Gwaine and Freya dancing the Argentine Tango, which scores them their first and very much deserved 40, putting them firmly at the top of the leaderboard with a whopping 79 points.

Arthur can’t believe it when they show the leaderboard. Even though Gwen and Mordred scored 40 for their Quickstep, he and Merlin are one point ahead of them with their overall scores for both dances, putting them second on the leaderboard with 74 points. Second on the leaderboard, in the semi final! For the first time, Arthur actually allows himself to wonder if they can make it through to the final! 

The wait for the results is horrible. The scores are so close that everyone is practising their dance for the dance off. Merlin and Arthur will be doing their Charleston again, they already decided that. It’s fine, he loves the dance so if he’s going out he want to go out on a high. And it’s not like it will be their last dance ever, they are doing the Strictly Tour in the new year after all.

And finally, for the final time, they go to stand under the spotlight to see who will be in this last dance off. Arthur knows it will be them, even though they are in second place, because he knows there is a good chance all the football fans who might have voted for him in the past will not want to know him now. They played videos from members of the public wishing them well, but all the contestants had those, so it is hard to say. 

Gwaine and Freya are first through to the final – they were brilliant tonight, and they’ve been in the dance off for the last two weeks running so it is well deserved. The first couple in the dance off is Elyan and Helen, which isn’t that much of a surprise as they were at the bottom of the leaderboard. Arthur hates himself a little bit when he starts trying to assess if they can win that dance off. Elyan has changed back into his Cha Cha outfit, he scored 32 in that dance, Arthur and Merlin scored 39 for their Charleston… Elyan is his friend, he mustn’t think like that.

Morgana and Leon get through, which leave Gwen and Mordred and Arthur and Merlin. Gwen’s Quickstep was brilliant, there is no way they are in the bottom two. 

“And the final couple in the dance off, meaning the other couple is safe and through to the final of _Strictly Come Dancing 2018_ is…” 

Arthur glances over a Merlin who nods and squeezes his hand. When did he even take hold of Merlin’s hand? It’s ok, they can do this, even if he is up against a friend. They’ve been in the dance off before, they can do it again. Why do they always make this pause so long?

“Gwen and Mordred.” 

Arthur frowns. That must mean Gwen and Mordred are safe and he and Merlin are in the dance off, right? He looks over. There is a red light on over Gwen. That can’t possibly be right, Gwen was incredible tonight, it isn’t fair! Someone has clearly made a mistake, any moment now, they will announce that Arthur and Merlin are in the dance off after all. Any moment now…

Any moment…

It doesn’t happen. Merlin has to pull him away as they get the stage ready for the dance off.

So, it looks like the media are getting the sibling rivalry they wanted, albeit a week early. Gwen and Mordred against Elyan and Helen, what a horrible situation to be in. He is suddenly very glad he never had to directly compete like that against Morgana. It is obvious who is going to win this, poor Elyan doesn’t stand a chance against his sister. From all the stories he’s heard from the two of them over the weeks, Elyan wins most things he puts his mind to, so maybe it is actually Gwen’s turn for once, although Gwen did win X-Factor, so it’s not like she never wins anything even if Elyan didn’t take part in that one.

Elyan actually doesn’t look to disappointed when the inevitable results come in. “I’m amazed we got this far!” he tells Gaius. “I’ve loved every second of this competition, but let’s be honest, I was never going to win. My beautiful sister, on the other hand, is a truly amazing dancer and I have every confidence she can go on an win this thing!”

Whatever the result tonight, either Arthur or one of his friends was going out of the competition. Losing Elyan at this late stage is a blow, but losing any of them would have been. 

And it suddenly hits him. Not only were they not in the dance off, and not getting kicked out, he and Merlin have actually made it through to the final of _Strictly Come Dancing_! And, quite frankly, how in the hell did that happen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, time to vote! The final four are: 
> 
> Gwen and Mordred  
> Leon and Morgana  
> Gwaine and Freya  
> Arthur and Merlin
> 
> I can't decide who should win and who should lose, you have till 15 Dec 2018 to have your say!


	47. THE FINAL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week Arthur and Merlin are dancing the Argentine Tango to _Libretango_ examples can be found here:
> 
> <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vaXNdVTGT0k> and here <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kdhTodxH7Gw>
> 
> And the Quickstep to _Sing, Sing, Sing_ by Louis Prima
> 
> <https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=TOPSETBUgvQ>
> 
> The four couples will be dancing their showdances to:  
>  _Groove is in the Heart_ by Dee-Lite  
> <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=etviGf1uWlg>
> 
>  _Don't Stop Me Now_ by Queen  
> <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HgzGwKwLmgM>
> 
>  _I Wanna Dance With Somebody_ by Whitney Houston  
> <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eH3giaIzONA>
> 
>  _Dance Dance_ by Fallout Boy  
> <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C6MOKXm8x50>
> 
> * * *
> 
> The votes are in, the winners chosen both here and in Chatzy.
> 
> I have deviated slightly from the usual _Strictly_ Final, rather than performing a previous routine chosen by the judges, the couples will be performing one last dance they haven't done yet. The reason for this is simply that I hadn't realised there are two dances the couples don't get to do, and I really wanted Merlin and Arthur to do an Argentine Tango. If they had done an American Smooth, it would have been to _I Am What I Am_ by Gloria Gaynor. Let's just pretend they would have danced that in the tour.
> 
> * * *

This is it, everything the last thirteen weeks have been leading up to, and Arthur still can’t believe he is somehow in the final of _Strictly Come Dancing_. 

He’s not expecting to win, Leon, Gwen and Gwaine are all much better dancers than he is, but even just being here is an incredible achievement for someone who never even dances at weddings. 

Some of his footie teammates are in the audience to support them, as are Huntih and Will. What he should have been expecting but for some reason wasn’t was for Morgana to invite Uther. 

“Arthur.” Uther’s words are stiff and formal, but the fact he seems to be prepared to even acknowledge Arthur’s existence is enough to make him pause. 

“Father.”

Uther nods as though Arthur had actually said something more. “I assume we will be seeing you for Christmas dinner.” It’s not a question, and it’s not even particularly friendly, but Arthur knows it must have cost Uther a lot to make this gesture.

“I’m sorry, I’ll be in Wales. Merlin’s mum has invited me.” He’s not going to be rude to Uther, but he’s not going to bend to his will any more either. He’s been invited to Hunith’s and he’s going, no matter what his father thinks.

“I’ve ordered a turkey box and a hamper from Fortnum and Mason. And my new chef is excellent.”

Merlin’s mum is getting a chicken from a local farm, and Merlin’s friend Will is going to cook it. There will be nothing posh like the christmases Arthur is used to, nothing from Fortnum and Mason or Harrods, no posh parties where people laugh down their noses at each other, no showing off who has spent the most money, and he can’t wait. 

“I’m sorry, I’ve already promised Hunith, it would be rude to back out now. Perhaps at New Year?”

A look of irritation crosses Uther’s face but he quickly smooths it out and nods. “Very well. I’ll expect you on New Year’s Day, one o’clock sharp.”

“I’ll check with Merlin.” Arthur knows he’s pushing it, but he’s not going to let his father off lightly.

“Merlin?” Uther looks for all the world like he’s never even heard of such a name.

“Yes, Father. My partner, I assume he’s invited as well?”

Uther looks like he’s trying really hard to control the twitch by his left eye.

“It’s a package deal, Father,” Arthur presses. “If you don’t accept Merlin into our family, then you don’t accept me.” 

“Your friend is, of course, welcome to attend. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Uther turns and walks as quickly as possible in the opposite direction before Arthur can tell him that Merlin is not just a _friend_. From the way he dashes off anyone would think Uther’s the one in the final of _Strictly Come Dancing_ in less than an hour and Arthur was the one holding _him_ up.

The excitement in the air as he goes to the green room is electric, which starts the butterflies once again in Arthur’s stomach. Everyone has worked so hard to be here and they all deserve to win in their own way. 

All the previous contestants are back for the final show so he is greeted by Percy and Elyan and Mithian and Elena and Lance almost like it was back at the start – even Isolde and Mary, who never really got going in the competition, are here. Unfortunately, so are Cenred and Julius, but like he already said, nothing and no one is going to spoil this for him now.

“Feeling nervous, little brother?” Morgana gracefully sinks into the seat beside him and crosses her long legs, showing the massive slit up the side of her skirt. She has her hair slicked back for a Tango, and heavy dark makeup around her eyes.

“I’m actually feeling pretty chill, thanks.” It’s not completely a lie, he was feeling strangely calm before he saw Uther, but now there is an underlying panic bubbling away just beneath the surface that could swell up and smother him at any moment if he dwells on it. Morgana knows this, of course. She probably knows him better than anyone, and knows exactly what buttons to push to make him react.

“Hmm. You have done brilliantly well, of course, getting this far, for a man with two left feet. I think it’s fair to say I was always better at football than you were at dancing.” Yes, of course she was. If she had chosen to be, Morgana probably would have been better at football than him, just like she’s better at everything else. There is probably nothing in life that Morgana has ever tried to do that she has not been good at.

“Anyone would think you were scared I was going to beat you, Morgana.” He takes care to make his words as casual as possible. They’ve played this game before, so many times. She tries to psyche him out, he pretends it isn’t working. She usually wins. “And thanks for warning me Father is here, by the way.”

She laughs, that pretty tinkly laugh she does when she’s pretending not to be evil. “Oh Arthur, in what world do you ever think you could beat me? You’re here for the novelty value, they wanted the all male couple in the nearly all male final. Everyone knows you should have gone out weeks ago. You really did play it very well, I’d almost think you paid Sofia to out you just for the publicity, but let’s be honest, this is finally my year to win.”

“Well, one of us must have inherited the conniving gene from Father, and it couldn’t possibly have been you, could it?”

She smirks and he knows he won this round. “Of course not, I have nothing in common with him.”

“Stop trying to wind him up, Morgana,” Merlin says as he grabs a chair and drags it over. “Whoever wins wins, we’ve all done pretty well to get this far.”

“Well you would say that, Merlin. Remind me again, how many finals have you been in?” Morgana fights mean.

“Not nearly as many as you,” Merlin responds with a big smile. “And yet, we’ve both won the same number of times.”

Morgana sniffs and tugs on her ponytail. “Well that is about to change, boys.” She gets up and struts away as the ten minutes to curtain call goes out.

“Ready?” Merlin links their fingers together and gives him that small soft smile that is mostly eyes that always seems to calm Arthur’s nerves.

“As I’ll ever be.” 

Of course, they already did a Tango all the way back in week four, so Arthur had mistakenly assumed the Argentine Tango couldn’t be that hard. What a prat he turned out to be. 

The Argentine, although not as energetic as the Jive or the Charleston, is probably the most technically complicated dance they’ve done. As well has having the basic Tango elements, this one also has something called Ganchos, which are all the complicated little kicks and flicks that look so wonderful when done properly. In reality, he’s spent a lot of time in the last few days kicking either himself or Merlin. 

They have a choreographer in for this dance, partly because Merlin already has their Show Dance to choreograph and partly because it is such a specialised dance that they need an expert. With his help, they are playing on all Merlin’s ideas from the ballroom Tango all those weeks ago, where the dance is a display of dominance between two men, but they are also making the most of the pure sensuality of the dance, which is something Arthur could not have imagined himself doing back in week four, or even in week eight when they did the Rumba. 

They are wearing nearly identical outfits for the Argentine Tango, except where Arthur has a deep-red velvet jacket, Merlin’s is a midnight shade of blue that brings out his eyes and almost makes Arthur forget to breath. Merlin is always beautiful, but there are times when he is simply stunning, and Arthur can’t believe his luck that he is the one, out of all the people in the world, who gets to go home with Merlin tonight.

They are second to perform, right after Gwaine and Freya do the most amazing Quickstep. They start off almost like a battle between the two of them, the lead switching from one to the other several times. He swears he can feel the electricity between them as the dance progresses, the closeness becomes more, the movements become more like caresses till they are breathing the same air, their lips almost touching as the music draws to a close. 

There is deathly silence in the auditorium, they only sound in Arthur’s ears the blood pounding through is head, he doesn’t even dare to breathe. Was the dance really that bad that it is getting no response? 

He breaks the spell and looks up. But then, like that was the signal everyone was waiting for, the audience breaks into applause. Everyone is suddenly on their feet clapping and he can breathe again. He is still holding Merlin so close that he feels him start to laugh rather than actually hearing him over the noise.

They break apart and go to hear the judges comments. The judges will be scoring as normal this week, but the scores are just for show as the results are based purely on the audience vote. Nevertheless, it is good to hear that the judges liked the dance, even Katrina does not seem to be able to find fault.

When the scores come in, he finally gets to see that rarest of all things. Katrina is holding up a ten paddle. Ten, from Finna, ten from Ruadan, ten from Kilgharrah. Finally, right at the end when the score doesn’t even matter, there it is, the perfect 40. Merlin is standing stock still, eyes like saucers as the rest of the dancers gather round to congratulate them. They got 40, they actually got a 40.

Even so, it doesn’t put them top, Gwaine already received 40 for his Quickstep, and Gwen soon follows with another 40 for the Salsa. Morgana and Leon are actually the lowest scorers so far with 39 for their Tango, with Katrina thinking Leon’s face wasn’t stern enough for the perfect score because he accidentally smiled at one point. 

This being the final, they still have two more dances to go – this week has been exhausting with three dances each to perfect.

The next dance is the big one, of course. Everyone knows you can win or lose Strictly based purely on your Show Dance.

Gwaine is up first with a hilarious psychedelic dance to _Groove Is In the Heart_ by Deee-Lite that is a little bit Charleston mixed in with Salsa in a very odd way, but it’s mostly fancy lifts and posturing. It is very funny and the voting public are probably going to love it, although the judges only give them 35 for various nitpicking reasons that Arthur doesn’t agree with at all. 

Arthur and Merlin are second, dancing one of Arthur’s favourite songs. It’s mostly a Jive number to make up for their failed Jive a couple of weeks ago (his knee is still in a support but so far seems to be holding out), but they have thrown some Charleston and Quickstep and a few other things into the mix too simply because they can. 

_Tonight, I’m gonna have myself, a real good time…_

The dance starts with them coming down from the ceiling on wires, and Arthur has to try not to think about the tiny platform that is all that stands between him and certain death. 

_I feel ali-i-i-ive…_

They meet on the floor and go straight into a Viennese Waltz. 

_And the world, turn it inside out, I’m floating around in ecstasy…_

Slight pickup moving the Waltz into a Foxtrot. 

_So don’t stop me now… don’t stop me now, ‘cause I’m having a good time, having a good time…_

And from there the dance morphs seamlessly into the Quickstep as the music picks up pace so they can be shooting stars leaping through the sky and then into the Jive as they get to _burning through the sky_ , continuing on that same frantic pace mixing in Charleston and Lindy steps and a bit more Quickstep through the chorus until finally the music slows again and they go back into a Viennese Waltz as it tails off. 

The audience are cheering them on again, but this is the final, they’d probably get a cheer even if they really did just floss, as Merlin has suggested all those weeks ago. The judges seem happy, but they are just decorative this week, their scores have no influence on the outcome, so they seem to be in better moods in general. 

Katrina cannot possibly be expected to give them more than one 10, so she takes away completely and gives them an 8. Finna loves it and scores them 10, which isn’t a surprise, she’s always been their biggest supporter. Ruadan seems happy and gives them 9. Kilgharrah goes with 10, giving them and overall score of 37, and a current total of 77. 

Gwen’s Show Dance is to Whitney Houston’s _I Wanna Dance With Somebody_ , and even Arthur can tell it is incredible. They’ve mostly gone with a Latin-based routine, largely seeming to consist of the dreaded Cha Cha, which everyone else has wisely steered clear of, but then everyone else was never as good at it as Gwen. Some of the lifts are simply jaw-dropping and yet Gwen and Mordred make them look like they were easy. It’s just one hundred per cent pure dance brilliance. Arthur finds himself on his feet cheering along with everyone else as the dance finishes and Gwen, because she is the most unassuming person in the world, actually looks surprised at the reception. It comes as no surprise to anyone when she gets her second perfect 40 of the night. 

Leon and Morgana do a fast and fun routine to _Dance Dance_ by Fallout Boy, which is a rock’n’roll Quickstep based routine with showy lifts. It is very good, there is no denying that, but in Arthur’s opinion none of the other show dances are anywhere near as good as Gwen’s. Leon’s routine lands them with another 39, one point ahead of Arthur and Merlin on the leaderboard. 

The voting lines are open now, and all they have left to do is their favourite dance from the series. 

Arthur and Merlin have chosen their Quickstep from Blackpool, which had given them their first ever 10 from Finna. Arthur loves this dance, it just might be the one where he started to actually enjoy dancing – he’d had fun with the Paso Doble from Halloween, but that had been more about the dressing up as zombies and the cool Michael Jackson jacket (which the costume department refused to let him steal) than the actual dancing. 

Merlin has, of course, refined the dance, made the steps cleaner, faster. Arthur hopes he’s learnt a lot since Blackpool, he’s worked hard on his frame and his footwork, but this is the dance they’ve rehearsed least this week (but then again, most overall), concentrating instead on the two new dances, so he hopes it will be ok. 

Before they do they dance they play a little VT where all their friends and family talk about them. Arthur is expecting it to just be his footie mates, which it mostly is, but he is surprised to find both his father and Morgana are there telling him how proud they are of him. He surreptitiously wipes a tear from the corner of his eye, hoping everyone was too busy watching the reel to notice. 

The costumes and everything are the same as they were in Blackpool. He’s pretty sure that he and Merlin are more in tune with each other than ever now and they are definitely moving in complete unison. He misses the extra bounce from the sprung floor in Blackpool, but the extra magic that seems to be in the air from this being the final makes him almost feel like they are flying across the floor. Before they know it, the audience are on their feet cheering once more. 

“Arthur, Merlin, how do you feel?” Vivian asks. 

“Brilliant!” Arthur replies. “Whoever wins, I think we all tried our best, and it’s been a blast.” 

“So you don’t want to win?” 

“Well, it would be nice, of course,” Arthur says. 

“I just wanted to be in the final!” Merlin says. “I’ve been in this show for seven years, and this is the first time I’ve reached the final! Like Arthur said, we’re all winners.” 

“This has been one of the best experiences ever,” Arthur says. “I really should have gone out in week two, but instead I’ve learnt to dance and I have found my best friend and the most important person in my life.” He wraps an arm around Merlin and pulls him closer. “I don’t need a trophy to top that, I’ve already won!” 

Katrina also finds fault with Gwaine’s Charleston, which looks amazing to Arthur, so he also receives 39. Gwen, however, manages a third perfect 40 for her Paso Doble, and Leon gets 40 for the American Smooth, which leaves Gwaine in last place with 114 points, then Arthur with 116, Leon at 118 and Gwen out in front with 120. 

And that is it, he’s danced his last dance in the show. Not his last dance totally, they are signed up for the tour, although he’s not entirely sure what it entails. 

While they wait for the public to cast their votes, there is another pro dance, and then a dance featuring all the contestants who never made it to the final, which is a lot of fun to watch. Part of him wishes he was down there with them, another part, mostly his aching body, is glad to be doing no more dancing tonight. 

And now, at last, the results are in. The four couples gather in around the glitterball trophy while, Vivian, who appears to be dressed in a bedsheet, drums up the dramatic tension. 

“And the winner, of _Strictly Come Dancing 2018_ is…” 

Dramatic pause… 

Even more dramatic pause… 

Still pausing… <

Any moment now… 

“Gwen and Mordred!” 

There is half a second of silence before Gwen lets out a shriek. 

“YES!” Mordred shouts, picking up the trophy and waving it over his head. “We won!” 

Gwen is both laughing and crying now as Mordred hands her the trophy and then picks her up and twirls her around. Before she knows it, Arthur, Merlin, Leon and Gwaine have joined them and hoisted her into the air. 

Arthur is genuinely so happy for her, she deserves to win this probably more than any of them, she has become a truly amazing dancer and she is quite possibly the nicest person Arthur has ever met. 

As they set Gwen down, Merlin pulls him to the side. “I’m sorry, are you disappointed?” 

“Me? No, I’m pretty amazed I got this far. How about you?” 

Merlin grins. “Nah. I wouldn’t have traded this for anything.” 

“Good.” Arthur wraps both arms around Merlin. “Because I don’t plan on letting you go, you know. Not ever.” 

The next thing he knows he has closed the last little bit of distance, uncaring for the cameras still rolling or all the other people still on the dance floor, and he’s kissing Merlin like nothing else matters, because really, it doesn’t. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those that care, the results (taking into account votes for first, second, third and fourth) were:  
> Gwen and Mordred  
> Leon and Morgana  
> Arthur and Merlin  
> Gwaine and Freya
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who read this, your comments kept me going, I hope it didn't disappoint!


End file.
